Mass Effect: Testament of the Last American Soldier
by Blade8821
Summary: What happens when an American Marine is forced into an experiment that traps him in cryogenic stasis for more than a century? What do you do when everyone you know is dead and gone while you, not even remembering your own name, are forced to fight a war that is not yours to wage? Bear witness to the story of one unfortunate soldier... As he fights to shape his own fate.
1. Chapter 1 UPDATED AGAIN

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#1 _**Awakening...**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Okay, I admit, I couldn't resist. I am a hardcore Mass Effect fan, and I finally broke down and wrote a fic. ME fans, rejoice, for it will NOT be something stupid, sappy, Mary Sue-ish, nor will it encompass only one of the games. It begins near the start of Mass Effect 2, as a tribute, seeing as that was the first of the three that I played, all those years ago...**_

_**Man, that game was IMPOSSIBLE! Seriously, casual was normal, normal was hard, hardcore was insane, and insanity? Damn. IMPOSSIBLE. Moving along.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

All I could hear... Was my heartbeat, for the longest time.

_*****__Ba-dump...Ba-dump...Ba-dump...Ba-dump, _**ANH-ANH-ANH!**_*_

An alarm sounded, making me think of something other than my pulse for the first time, in what felt like centuries.

_"Life support system; failure. Deactivating cryogenic stasis."_

Bleerily, I heard a hollow, mechanical voice ring out, dull and diluted. I was, floating, immersed in a viscous liquid. My body felt numb, and detached.

It took every ounce of willpower just to open my eyes, and force my hands to clench.

'_Auugh, wha-?_'

My vision was blurry, but I could see it; the water, draining away as I started to get feeling back in my icey limbs. Just then-

"_Purging stasis chamber._"

Whatever had been holding the water in place shifted, and the restraints holding my arms, legs and neck released, and I fell forward, collapsing to the floor, twitching instead of getting up as I wished to. My body wasn't responding at all, for some reason.

_'Got to... Move._'

I just lay there, panting, shivering. Everything felt, off, as though I weren't in my own body.

"_Warning; Prototype Spartan Unit 0 is active. Repeat, Prototype Spartan Unit 0 is active. All security personnel, report to operating room 1._" That automated voice again.

Wait.

Spartan. Prototype.

That's me, I guess. Security personnel?

No. Not yet, I refuse. I will not die. Not here, not now...

_**NOT EVER!**_

**[If you've got it, kick on some Cruch 40, the song Never Turn Back. Expect much mood music]**

My heart began to beat, faster and faster, as the adrenaline started to flow.

'_Not good. Get Up... Get Up. Get up. Get up! GET up! GET UP! __**GET UP GODDAMNIT**__!_'

My fist clenched, muscles tensed, and I forced my arm to move, placing my knucles flat on the floor, pushing for all I was worth. Right arm, first, then left. Push. Move. Move, damnit!

After several seconds of struggling, my body was upright, still shivering, but I felt dry. Frozen solid, but dry. I blinked away the fuzziness, shaking the haze from my mind.

'_What the... Where am I?_'

My neck felt like a cinderblock, trying to tilt my head to look. Everything was, white. I was in a large, circular white room, well lit with bright white light, emanating from several fluorescent lights in the ceiling. There was something that looked like a medical gurney in the center, with several steel endtables standing next to it. The room was maybe twenty feet across, and at least forty feet high, floor to ceiling. Up above, directly across from me, was a large window; it was darkly tinted, and I couldn't see anything through it

'_An observation deck; it's an operating room._' I thought numbly, still trying to get my bearings. '_Have to get moving. Can't stay here._'

Looking back down was far easier; my head felt heavy, ditto with my eyelids. I finally took notice of the big detail I had missed earlier, that I wasn't naked, but I wasn't wearing clothes, either. Around the edges of my field of vision, I could see something, dark, as though I were wearing goggles or something.

When I focused on my hands-

That's when I noticed.

My hands were gloved, for lack of a better word. Large, overlapping metal plates covered them, as well as my arms. Under the plates, was a skintight black suit of some kind.

Aha.

Now I know why my head is so heavy; I'm wearing a helmet. The visor still had remnants of whatever fluid I had been dunked in. Not water, but something viscous and blue, with a greenish tint.

But what's- No. Now isn't the time. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus, ignore the grogginess.

I pushed myself to my feet, and discovered my entire body was covered in the armor. White and black plates, with black undersuit. There were gold highlights around the edges of the pauldrons, helmet, knees and vambraces. That's why my body feels so heavy.

'_Not now. Focus. Worry about it later._' I looked around again, and finally found the door. It was already open, a pair of large, sliding doors. '_Great... Not my lucky day._'

One step at a time. My body was starting to lose the numbness, and I no longer felt that biting cold.

'_Focus; breathe in, breathe out. Listen._'

I moved as quickly and surely as I could to the side of the door, putting my back to it, sidling closer to the gap. Bracing my hand against the wall, I peeked out, looking around.

A hall, with a flight of stairs on one side and a dead end on the other. It was as white as the other room, with one exception. Along the walls, were several spatters of blood that had seeped to the floor. I could even see distinct handprints on some of them. The door looked as though it were forced open, with gouges in the metal, as well.

'_Forward area cl- Wait. Bodies._'

Directly next to the door and out of my field of vision, was a dead body. Fresh, less than six hours. Female, facedown, wearing a lab coat; gunshot wounds in the back that seeped blood was all that marred the coat's pure white surface. Judging from the way she's sprawled out, she was running, and shot in the back. The blood on the floor suggests she tried to drag herself away even after she fell. Right next to her hand was something rectangular, made of metal.

Look left, look right; clear. I stepped into the hall, kneeling next to her, plucking the object from the floor, oddly confused that my dexterity was unhindered by the heavy armor I'd woken up in. Hm.

Flipping it over, I got a closer look. It was a frame of some sort, and what I assumed to be the bottom side had several keys.

'_Huh. Wonder what the hell this thing's for?_'

Considering my half-dazed state, my curiosity overriding my common sense was unsurprising. I tapped one of the keys, and the open space in the center of it lit up, a translucent orange screen appearing.

'_Whoa. Wicked tech._' It was a computer, a small, portable computer. The screen displayed lines of text, though I couldn't decipher any of it. '_Hmph, great. Wherever I am, I sure as hell ain't in Kansas. They don't even write in english. Huh, now that I think about it, that announcement clearly WAS english._ _The hell?_'

I was about to toss the tablet aside, when one of my higher thought processes shined through. Whatever it was, it must have some value. The woman is wearing a lab coat, and was likely a doctor or researcher, so it should have some useful information, once I figure out how to read it. Might even tell me just what happened here. I looked about myself, searching for a pocket.

Oddly enough, the suit had several storage compartments on it, all hard-cased and sealed. Directly below the small of my back, right where my belt would be, was the largest one. Something like an asspack, I suppose. Need to find a mirror, sometime, I noted.

It took only a moment to figure out the latch on the case, opening it. The inside was padded, and made to store a large number of items. It was surprisingly spacious, for what it was. I stored the- What do they call these things? A tablet, that's what it is! Hm. I'll worry about it later. For now, I turned my attention back to my surroundings, starting towards the stairs.

Going up was easier than I'd first thought. My body still felt weak, but I was moving. Beyond that, my mind was clearing, coherent thoughts coming far easier, mental processes speeding up. I was starting to feel more sure of myself, if I ran into whatever security that PA system had mentioned. Heh, if they were even here, that is.

When I made it to the top, I found only one door on my right-hand side. But next to it were three more bodies. Two of which were wearing some kind of armor, with the same white and black color scheme as my own, but they also looked far different than mine. Full armor, including face helmets, but with several bulletholes pockmarking their entirety. However; on the chestplate of the one lying face-up, I saw some kind of symbol. A black diamond, with two golden chevrons down the sides.

Strange. It's the same symbol that was on some of the walls, and on the tablet I picked up, as well as the other guy's armor. It isn't a rank insignia, then. Perhaps the mark of a company, or whoever build this place. The employer of these people, maybe.

Hm?

The two armored men both had similar items near their hands. What looked like a pistol, with two barrels and a full hand guard instead of a trigger guard. I bent and picked one up, inspecting it.

The barrels had squared-off shrouds; atop the highest one were three-post sights. The rear was a guttersight, with a front post. Wherever I am, simple open sights were still the same. On the side of the weapon, were two small red lights. I could decipher no purpose from them, so I assumed they were some kind of power indicator, or of asthetic properties. Along one of the largest, bulkiest parts, had the letters TFX printed in white paint, looking faded and worn. It's definitely a service weapon, not a safe queen.

Single trigger, simple enough. The bottom of the grip showed it to be some kind of magazine, with a basic catch. Pulling it out, I found it was almost fully-loaded with small, cylidrical items. Cartriges? Hm. Nine of them in the magazine, with room for three more. I loaded it back into the pistol, giving it another once-over, before taking a full grip and looking down the sights.

Front was red, lit up with some kind of fiber optics or LED, while the rear had two light green dots. It felt comfortable enough, well-balanced and lighter than it looked. I then picked up the other one, giving it a casual inspection before trying to figure out how to store it.

That's when the armor did something useful; I had swept the gun down to stow it with the tablet, when it grazed the plating along my left thigh, and it caught. I let it go and it clung there, before folding in on itself, becoming compact.

"Well, that's convenient." I spoke for the first time since I woke up, my voice falling flat, trapped inside the helmet. Huh. I'll remove it and look everything over once I'm outta here.

Turning, I walked over to the closed door, only for it to slide open on its own. Huh. Gun up, I checked the room as far as I could before entering, old habits falling into place, muscle memory taking over.

Right, check corners. Front and center, check high-low. Left, check corners and blind spots. Clear. Observation deck, computer banks along desks with chairs, two more bodies, both wearing lab coats. Obvious signs of a firefight, not that the eggheads had much of a chance to fight back, as both of them were unarmed.

Moving to the nearest undamaged computer, I tapped one of the keys, causing the translucent screen to appear once more.

And, again, with unreadable text. Damnit. "Augh, don't they have any fucking English?" I groaned, but before I could react-

The entire suit I wore gave a jolt, going completely rigid!

"Shit!"

'_Fuck fuck fuck!_' Before I could do anything, the visor in the helmet lit up in blue, static and white noise appearing for some eight seconds. I was starting to panic, as I couldn't move in the slightest, when a bar appeared in the dead center and started filling, a percentage number beside it.

Huh?

Took only a few moments before it filled, the visor cleared, and several things appeared around the edges. Top left, appeared a blue circle, with one wedge directly forward. In the center of it, was a green dot.

The hell is that for? Anyway.

At the top-center of the visor was a blue bar, above it another line of unreadable text. As it filled, I noticed a faint blue field of light surrounding me, before vanishing. Stranger. On the bottom right-hand side of the visor were several numbers and more text; 8/108.

Wonder what that's for.

There was even more stuff, though the bulk of it was uncluttered. At the top-right of the visor was a small screen, showing a line that went straight across, going up and down at regular intervals.

Aha! An EKG, or heartrate monitor. Very nice. There were a few other things that I couldn't quite make out, as well. Stranger still.

The last thing I noticed, was a small reticle appearing; it was simply a blue outline of a box, and it went wherever my gaze was focused. It was tracking my eye movements, scanning and focusing in on whatever object I was looking at. Exceptionally useful. After a moment, I notice a green bar appear, shifting to the lower left-hand corner, small and unnoticed, for the most part. It remained empty, with a percentage number next to it.

After a moment, it bumped up to 1%. Huh. Something else loading.

I rolled my shoulders, the suit no longer restricting my movement. I now felt strong, rejuvenated, and powerful; muscles flexing, the stiffness and weakness having completely evaporated from my body entirely. Looking down to the computer I had been messing with earlier, I sighed, still irritated that nothing was in english.

"Great, wonder if it's greek?"

This time, my voice rang out, some speaker on the outside of the helmet amplifying my voice, which I could hear perfectly. Hm.

Wait, what the hell?

The text of the computer rearranged itself, into something else unrecognizable. Not to mention, the text inside of my own helmet changed.

"The hell...? Wait. English." I spoke again, and within moments, the text rearranged itself into english.

Alright!

I pulled up the chair, sat down, and started going through everything I could get ahold of.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_Spartan Project._

I found the folder labeled as such, and opened it, sifting through massive amounts of data.

Three hundred people, willingly or unwillingly, were placed in cryogenic stasis. They were all exceptional specimens of the human genome, all exceptionally well-trained in the ways of war. They were genetically modified and conditioned to the fullest extent, with the intention of creating the best commandos and shock troopers possible. Then, those who were successfully modified, were to be equipped with highly advanced armorsuits. This facility housed the first successfully modified individual, the prototype for the entire project.

Me.

According to this, the armor I'm wearing is the prototype, a non-production model; too advanced for me to even begin to understand, and too expensive for them to mass-produce, but I do grasp the fundamentals. The blue bar represents the kinetic barrier charge, or shields, as they're commonly called. They block incoming projectiles, from bullets to shrapnel. The armor is a combination of metal and ablative ceramic, meant to stop all handheld munitions that aren't anti-material. But the undersuit? That was nano-tech. Micro robots that self-repair the entire suit, as well as maintain homeostasis for me, the wearer. It also deals with injuries to my body, keeping me up and shooting for as long as possible. It even has an indicator for where I am being shot from, when under fire.

The suit is designed to keep the soldier alive and standing for as long as possible, allowing him or her to fight at maximum efficiency for weeks or months on-end without any supplies, save for ammunition. Even then, the soldier can keep fighting in hand-to-hand if necessary, to acquire enemy weapons. A built-in computer handles everything from life support, communications, active scanning and navigation, to hacking devices, translating languages both spoken and written, along with cataloging information gathered in the field for later reference. Incredibly useful.

Damn. It does everything but wipe your ass and pull the trigger for you. Inside the visor, I finally figured out what several of the other readouts were. The EKG also showed BPM and blood pressure, with a brief toxicology check. It can diagnose poisons and illnesses, even.

The circle is a motion sensor, compass, and IFF reader. Useful, especially in a cluttered environment. The numbers on bottom-right were a weapon and ammunition readout. Apparently, the weapon I have is an M3 Predator heavy pistol. Well, that makes my job much easier, knowing exactly how many shots I have. Moving along.

There was a whole hell of a lot of information on the Spartan project, but I don't have time to read all that. One last thing I want to look at; my dossier. Something about the entire thing doesn't sit right with me.

I remember many things... My training, my job, history, how I got shoved in that damn tube; but I can't remember a lot of other things, personal things. Where I lived, who my family was, what they looked like.

My own name?

None of it rang any bells.

As I perused through the dossier, I found it to be a little too, sparse, for my liking.

_Male, roughly age twenty to twenty-six. No known name or family. Given the callsign "Blade" due to numerous edged-weapon scars present before alterations were made. Subject reacted exceptionally well to genetic manipulation and cybernetic implants. Signs of previous gene modification present; primitive, but effective attempts at enhancing the subject's physical and mental abilities. No sign of rejection thus far. As testing has shown, subject is shrewd and exceptionally intelligent, needing little information to make decisive conclusions. _

_Physically, subject is a prime example of the utmost possibilities of what it means to be "Human." Physical abilities exceed expectations tenfold, along with a natural variation of the T-01A cybernetic enhancement. This ability likely originated from the first time the subject was altered, and may be exponentially improved when used in conjunction with said cybernetics as a catalyst. _

Huh. Man, this is some shit right out of a B-rated sci-fi flick. I stopped reading, backing further and further out of the directory. I copied everything to do with the spartan project, and searched around a bit, before I found what I was looking for. A method to transfer the information to nearby devices.

It took a short while to figure out which device was the one in my possession, but I transferred everything that seemed relevant to the tablet, before turning and walking out of the room, through the only other door.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

'_Now to find a way outta here._'

I carefully moved through the automatic door, scanning left and right as I went.

Nothing, nothing but bodies. Strewn about the hall, were even more of them. Men and women, thankfully no children. Several were armored, wearing the same black and white armor as the others. But even more numerous, were bodies dressed in some kind of jumpsuit; it had a number of pockets, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows on most. It looked like some kind of battle-dress uniform. Or would that be the armor? Hm.

Down this hall, were several doors. I took a breath, and moved along the wall to the closest, ignoring the blood and gore scattered about. This door was also automatic, as it slid open when I got close. I waited several beats, before whipping around and stepping inside, gun raised.

Nothing. It was a restroom, with urinals and stalls. Along the nearby wall were sinks, as well as-

A mirror!

After a quick check, I deemed the room clear, and went to get a look at myself.

_'Whoa...' _

I stood roughly 6'4, including the helmet. The armor was, indeed, black and white, with the same diamond symbol on the left chestplate. The visor was blacked out; it had slots that allowed me to look up and down unhindered, with a full facemask. It completely covered my head, and my neck was protected by a collar that protruded from the pauldrons and chestplate. The left pauldron was larger than the right, so that if I turned my left side to an opponent with a rifle to my shoulder, it would protect my face and neck.

Anyway. The armor itself looked heavy, made of some kind of metal. The black suit underneath it was skintight, and looked to be woven of some sort of thick kevlar, or neoprene-like material. Despite how it looked, it was immensely comfortable, and felt light, even. As though I'd spent my entire life wearing it.

'_Such armor... Crafted for battle, meant for one purpose; to wage war. Just what enemy rates constructing such machines?_' I shuddered involuntarily as I thought on the answer to that question, and what it might mean for me in the near future.

Strange and stranger. There was a protective codpiece, of course, along with overlapping abdominal plating. My flanks were guarded by small, interlocking plates that overlapped others, maintaining flexibility, while granting unsurpassed protection and coverage. Solid plates covered my forearms, upper arms, thighs, shins, shoulders, knees. Not to mention-

There was something on my back, sticking up over my shoulders about an inch and a half on each side. I couldn't quite make them out, but they looked squared-off, and made of the same metal as the armor. Huh. Not high enough to be meant to protect the back of my head, then.

Well, whatever. I'll worry about 'em later. I rolled my shoulders again, tapped my visor, turned, and walked out, looking down the barrel.

I moved through the hall, giving the bodies a kick as I went, ensuring there were no traps or people playing possum. All dead, that's for sure. There were two offices and another bathroom in the hall, all empty, except for the occasional cadaver.

Oddly enough, I've only seen bodies of people wearing the same white and black clothing or armor, but no one wearing an enemy uniform. Strange; these people obviously fought back, judging from the armor, fired weapons, and bulletholes in the walls, but whoever is was that came here banging on their tom-toms just steamrolled right over these poor bastards. These people simply weren't prepared or equipped to fight back properly. Hmph. Well, here's hoping I don't run into the same guys.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I got through the hall, and the next without incident. I finally found something that told me where I was. Writing on the wall, with arrows.

Again, in that shitty non-english dialect. Fuck. I looked at it for a moment, before something happened. When my eyes focused in on those lines of text, the reticle in my visor highlighted them, scanning them.

Then, above the reticle, appeared the words I was looking for.

_Operating room, left._

_Offices, left. _

_Restrooms, left._

_Shuttle bay, straight. _

_Café, straight._

_Medical, right. _

_Armory, right._

_Barracks, right._

*Beat*

Armory?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Of course, I went right, grinning.

'_An armory, huh? Hope they've got something better than more crappy pistols._'

I went through two more hallways, trying not to trip over armored bodies, before I found it. A room with a large door, that had a sign above it labeling it as the armory. Sweet.

Bodies were strewn about, all wearing armor. I got closer, and saw inside the armory itself.

There was a table flipped on its side, used as cover. On the other side of it, were two bodies that had been torn to shreds, blood and gore everywhere. Well, either a grenade got tossed in here, or someone with a shotgun ran up and tapped 'em with the muzzle.

Hm.

I took a few moments to look around the room, and saw what I was looking for. Racks lined with firearms, rifles. Sweeeet.

Oddly enough, only the two bodies in this room and the few just outside it were armed with rifles. I guess they got hit hard and fast, without enough time to get in here and equipped. Placing my pistol on my right thigh, where it stuck and folded in on itself, I picked up the nearest rifle.

It was odd-looking, had a stock and pistol grip, but the receiver was rounded at the top, with two barrels and the forend was kinda square-ish, with rounded edges. On the side of it were the letters M8, and on the side of the upper, was the word "Assembly." It had a trigger guard that was oversized for gloved hands, with three red lights on the side of the receiver, just behind the lower barrel. On top of the weapon was a built-in optic, some kind of scope, with the words "Hard Lock" on it. Very nice, if it's sighted in properly. The stock looked like it would fold inward, as well.

The forend had a latch on it, the same kind as on the M3. I manipulated it, and the backside of the forend swung downward, revealing a large number of the same cartridges I'd seen before, loaded sideways through the handguard, fully loaded. Aha. That's the magazine for it, then, and the cartriges are loaded into stripper clips of some sort. Huh. Seems kinda like a step backwards from detachable magazines, but whatever. I closed the forend and put the gun to my shoulder.

It felt comfortable, at least. Ligthweight, for how it looked, just like that pistol. After a second, the words _M8 Avenger, 40/600 _appeared in the bottom-right of my visor. So, it's called the Avenger? Huh. Judging from the number of rounds, I'm guessing it's either a burst-fire or full-auto.

I glanced through the scope-

Well, now... It showed a simple reticle, dot inside of a crosshair circle. On the bottom-left of the scope showed a small readout, that said 2.4 metres. A rangefinder, too? On the bottom-right of it was another readout, showing the zoom; 1X. Hm. Adjustable, methinks. Very nice.

Pulling it from my shoulder, I glanced around the room again, and soon found what I was looking for. Another rack, lined with clips of those cylindrical cartridges.

Heheheheheh. Sweet. I snatched up several clips, loading them into the metal cases on the front of my armor. Setting the rifle down, I reached for the pistol on my right side, and it unfolded as my hand got near. Nice. I grabbed it and pulled straight up, pulling the weapon off effortlessly.

Removing the magazine, I plucked three cartridges from one of those other clips, and loaded them into the mag before reloading the gun itself, replacing it on my thigh. I did the same with the other handgun, and put as many of the clips as I could fit into the different cases on my armor that looked to be made for them.

Okay; no longer have to worry about ammo. Picking the rifle back up, I left the armory, searching throughout the area.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

My next destination was medical, and I found more bodies dressed in entirely different uniforms. Huh. Almost look like long jackets with integral gloves.

I moved inside the room that had a caduceus sign directly above it. Inside, was a small infirmary; a few hospital beds with medical equipment next to them, and on the walls were three red dispensers that had a single, large white cross on each one. Hm. Moving to the closest one, I found a small glass and metal cask being dispensed, with some kind of gel in it.

Then that blue square reticle made itself useful again, highlighting that cask.

It subtitled it 'Medi-gel,' stating reserves full right next to it. Well, that's self-explanatory.

Picking it up, another rolled out, replacing it. Huh. I placed four of them in my largest storage case alongside the tablet, turned and walked out. Wonder why it said reserves full? I didn't see any in the other cases.

Well, anyway. I moved down the halls, until I found the shuttle bay.

Whoa.

Inside, was an actual large dry-dock, with a massive open door with a blue field covering it. Outside that doorway, was the vastness of space.

"Holy shit."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After a tense moment, I decided it wouldn't suck me out into space just for my walking in there,(My luck isn't THAT bad, right?) and looked around.

The nearest large, car-like thing was white with black highlights, and looked faintly space-agey. Huh. There was a side door on it already open, and I walked inside of it, finding the vehicle a bit cramped for my height.

Hm.

Several seats inside, with a small doorway. Going through it, I found the pilot's seat, with several consoles before it. I sat down, looking over the controls until I found a single button labeled 'Autopilot.'

Awesome. I hit that, and in an instant, I felt the entire thing rumble and shake, as the doors closed, before feeling gravity seem to just, let off a bit. I felt nearly weightless, and for a moment, I wondered,

'_Am I in space already?_'

Then the ship tossed me back a little, just a little, as it moved forward. Well, now. After a moment, a mechanical female voice spoke.

"_Please select a destination._"

Huh?

On the console, one of those translucent screens appeared, with a few preprogrammed destinations showing up, in english of all things.

None of them made much sense, to me, as I didn't see Earth on there, after all.

But one of them caught my eye.

"Omega."

"_Destination; Omega. Confirmed, shuttle is underway. Estimated time of arrival; six hours._"

Six hours, huh?

Well, time enough for a short nap, I suppose. Maybe It'll help clear my head.

Heh, and help to remember how the fuck I got roped into this shit.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"_**We are Anonymous. We are legion. We do not forgive, we do not forget. Expect us.**_" -Anonymous.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**AUTHOR COMMENTARY: YES, I know there are several Halo references in here. That's because I am a bit of a Halo fan, but before you people start hiking up your pitchforks, torches and magnums, I had the design concept for the armor in place BEFORE Halo 4 came out, and before any of the trailers were even released. (Think of a cross between Mjolnir and N7) I'd been planning this fic since mid-2010, just hadn't decided whether or not to post it, since I had Waking Death and other things on my mind. I also redid, rewrote, and reread everything over and over again, before I finally got it right. Anyway.**_

_**In fact, the idea for the design came from a different source entirely...**_

_**Metroid, of all things. In Prime, you see that on the back of Samus' armor are thrusters; I had the idea for a high-tech suit of armor that included said thrusters for maneuvering in Zero-G, rapid movement, and dodging obstacles. Then, later on, I played Other M when it came out.(It sucked. That game was hard as hell until you mastered sense-move, plus the voice-acting sucked donkey balls)**_

_**In that, they used those thrusters for dodging and other tricky moves. Kinda pissed me off, since I had that idea the first time I played Mass Effect 2. Later on, Halo 4 was released, and they, too, had those built-in thrusters. **_

_**I said to myself, "Wow, everyone's on the same page now. Huh." But, yes, the way they're meant to look in here is based on the Halo 4 spartan armor. Looks better than Samus' armor, in my opinion. My fic, I do what I want.**_

_**Now, don't get your panties in a bunch, hardcore ME fans, and Halo fanatics.**_

_**The Halo refrences are going to be a running gag, as well as a nod to such a great series. I'm just not a fan of the new storyline 343 has put in place. Gameplay was great, but the story was... Lacking. Anyway.**_

_**There is also a few nods to the movie 300, and the historical warriors it was based upon. The project was originally titled Spartan, because the spartans were, historically, the most disciplined, well-trained, deadliest warriors on the face of the earth. The soldiers used in this project, were meant to be shock troopers that would turn the tides of any war. Strong as a Krogan, as intelligent as a Salarian, as disciplined as a Turian, as adaptive as a Vorcha, and as versatile as a Human. **_

_**Perfect soldiers for any army... **_

_**Also, the nickname Blade is NOT form the Blade movies, in any way shape or form. I like those movies, I saw them when I was younger, but they were not my inspiration for using that name. I do not own them, Halo, Mass Effect, Metroid, or any other copyrighted material that I may knowingly or unknowingly include in my works of fanfiction.**_

_**Also; sorry for the spelling errors, I don't have spellcheck on Wordpad. This chapter has been updated, I hope you've all enjoyed it.**_

_**Wow. Long Author Commentary. Hope I won't have to write any more of 'em this long... So.**_

_**Fuck you VERY MUCH, and have a nice day. **_**=P**


	2. Chapter 2 UPDATED

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#2 _**With Friends like These...**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**All I could hear... Was my heartbeat, for the longest time.**_

"_We have arrived at your destination._"

I gave a start, shocked awake by that annoying, mechanical voice again.

Agh, and I just fell asleep.

With a yawn, I got out of the pilot's seat, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck. After blinking away the sleep in my eyes, I looked around for a moment, before I found what I was looking for; my rifle.

Picking it up, I turned and walked into the passenger compartment, pausing for a moment. Omega... Greek letter representing the end, or the finale. Perhaps this place is a last resort for people. Huh. Well, I'm already here, so fuck it. I pressed the largest switch next to the shuttle door and it flipped up, allowing me to step out.

This place... It looks like a city, but without real sunlight. Everything was bathed in a dull red light, making the place seem a bit, well, dilapidated.

Litter and rubble were strwen about, the streets between tall skyscrapers cluttered with-

With people, but they weren't human. Most had grey skin, wearing rough-looking jumpsuits. Their faces looked like a cross between a bulldog and some kind of insect, crowded by four jet-black eyes, with a face that looks like it was pushed in.

There were several of them milling about, sitting on the ground, lying in alleys; this place reminded me of the ghettos on Earth. The reticle in my visor highlighted one of them, labelling him as a batarian.

Hm. Batarians. That's their race I suppose, or should I say, species.

A few of them finally took notice of me, and began stalking in my direction, trying to look menacing.(Three of four of 'em) Armed with pipes, knives and one with a rusted pistol; my visor highlighted and labelled them as a very low threat.

"You're not welcome here, human..." One of them growled, feinting at me with his crude knife.

Tch, amateurs. "I'm not here to stay, and I've no quarrel with you. If you're looking for handouts or a fight, you're provoking the wrong person." As an added measure, I hefted my rifle just a bit, as the shuttle door shut and locked behind me.

After another tense second they dispersed, stepping off in different directions, grumbling.

I swear, though, I think I heard one of them muttering, "_Damned Cerberus," _Under his breath.

Cerberus? Huh. Well, whatever. I moved through the streets, searching, though I'm not exactly sure what I was searching for.

Eventually, I found a fellow human. A girl, late teens or early twenties, wearing some kind of cheap, comfortable leather clothes. Not rich, but she definately wasn't homeless, since her hair was clean, and she wasn't covered in dirt and shit.

"Excuse me, miss," I hauled ass over, catching up with her before she could turn and run.

Still, her eyes widened, and flickered left and right, looking for a way out. "W-what do you want?" She was frieghtened, probably with good reason, given that this entire area looked a bit rough.

Good thing she speaks English. "Easy, I just need to know what year it is." She blinked, staring at me, no longer fidgeting.

"What? It's 2185." Perhaps she was struck dumb by my simple question.

Wait, do what?! The helling hell? I couldn't stop myself from muttering to myself, "So a hundred and fifty years have passed..."

"What?"

She must have good hearing. "Nevermind. Can you take me to whoever is in charge of this rock?" Need to figure out a plan of action, but first, I need information.

"A-a-Aria T'loak?! Hell no, man!" Well, obviously just the thought of whoever this Aria is has this girl scared shitless.

Not a very friendly person, I take it. "Very well. Can you at least tell me where can I find this Aria?"

"Afterlife, but you're Cerberus. She'll find you." The girl turned, taking off as quickly as she could without looking to be in a panic.

Well, that's that, then. Afterlife, huh?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Took me about an hour before I found the place, with a long-ass line in front of it. Heh, and here I am without my engraved invitation.

I walked past the line on the right-side of the rail, ignoring the mammoth doorman(He was an elcor. I saw one or two others like him, not real common) and was about to go through the automatic door when a pair of batarian bouncers stepped in front of me.

"Hey! Who the hell do you think you are?" The first one snarled, showing off his sharp teeth.

"Someone who is lost and looking for Aria T'loak." He blinked, his two sets of eyes staring at me.

"Tch... All you pompous Cerberus punks-"

I stopped him. "Alright, alright, I've been getting that all day. So what the hell is Cerberus, anyway? Some kinda insult to humans or something?"

He blinked again. "Are you serious?"

Yes, quit stalling before I push your face even further in. "Yeah, and it's starting to piss me off. C'mon, what is it? A racist term, or something?"

He was silent for several seconds, glancing at his partner, who shrugged. Then he looked back at me. "...Cerberus is a pro-human terrorist group. They're known throughout the galaxy as bigots and racists, using violence to try to keep humanity as the only dominant race."

Now it was my turn to blink. "Great, fucking space-nazis. And here I am, wearing their colors. Well, no wonder people have been glaring at me."

"Space-nazis?" He parroted, sounding puzzled.

Oh, right. Human history probably isn't common knowledge. "Er, old human political party from some two hundred years ago. Very violent, very racist. Look, mate; I've been in cryo for the last century and a half, and I just woke up yesterday. I'm just trying to get some answers." I was shaking my head, really wanting to pinch the bridge of my nose, but remembering I was hindered by my helmet.

Damnit, Jim.

"Oh...Kay." He shook his head, grumbling before reaching up and pressing a finger to a device in his ear.

"Hey boss, you've got a visitor. Yeah, human, well-armed, wearing Cerberus armor. Real naive, too. ...Are you serious?. Uh-huh. Got it." He looked back up at me. "Go on in. Aria's on the balcony overlooking the place, and don't do anything stupid or we'll have your liver for lunch."

Riiight, chucklefuck.

I moved past him when he stepped aside, calling back, "Thanks, mate."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Inside was a hallway, with another automatic door on the other side. A number of people were milling about in here, far better dressed than those I'd seen walking around.(Several batarians, a handfull of humans, dozens of creepy-looking bastards with sharp teeth, and a couple skinny, twitchy guys with big eyes and colorful skin)

Moving along, I went past the hall and through the door, into-

Afterlife...

A huge nightclub, with flashing lights and a huge screen in the center of it, showing a blue-skinned woman poledancing. Huh. A stripper if I've ever seen one. And behind it was that balcony. I went around the dancers, the people mingling and the rest who were drinking, before I found a small flight of stairs guarded by a turian with a rifle.(Turians; strange, tall, bird-like people with plated skin, flanges on their calves, and three fingered hands. Not exactly friendly, but they weren't as outright hateful as the batarians)

He gave me a nod as I went past, then rounded another corner-

And found myself face-to-muzzle with four gunbarrels. Huh. My visor labelled the entire situation as a mid-low threat, however...

The blue-skinned woman with tentacles for hair sitting comfortably behind them? She was labelled as an asari, and a mid-level threat, alone. She was sitting comfortably on a luxurious couch. Hm. Must be the big cheese.(_**Ba-dum-cha**_!)

"I take it you're Aria, then."

She had a deep-set frown in her beautiful(For an alien) features. "I am. But the question is, who are you?" Her voice rolled off of her tongue, caressing my ears like the words of a passionate lover.

I didn't trust her. Not one damn bit.(Smart. She's a bloody mafia boss, not exactly the most trustworthy) "I do now know. The callsign I was given is Blade; it will do." Her frown deepened, but she didn't move otherwise.

"That doesn't answer my question." Hm. Well, she's not retarded, that's for sure.

"I was born on Earth in the year 1991; in 2015, I was drugged and placed in cryogenic stasis. I only woke up yesterday, in an abandoned Cerberus-operated station."

Her eyes narrowed, but no other reaction. She considered her words for a few more moments. "What is it you want?"

"Answers."

"Nothing is free on this world, or any other." Aha. She wants to get as much as she can, then.

"Will information on a Cerberus science project satisfy you?" Her frown turned into a trustworthy smile.(Not really. I didn't trust her as far as I could throw her)

She snapped her fingers, and the guns disappeared, the bodyguards shifting back to casual positions, looking around for other threats. One batarian in particular remained at Aria's side, looking to me like a personal aide. Or office bitch, considering the tablet he had, along with his brown nose.

With my gun-hand, I reached into my primary storage case and pulled out that tablet, handing it to Aria. Wasn't worth much to me, anyway. "A good bit of it is encrypted." The bits I wasn't all that interested in, like the technical specs and budget records.

She skimmed through it. "That's just fine. Well, now. It seems Cerberus has been busy lately." She looked back up to me, still smiling. "Have you copied this to your omni-tool?"

"...Omni-tool?"

She sighed, holding up her left arm. Around it, appeared an, orange-yellow hologram, of some sort.

"An omni-tool is just that; a universal do-it-all device that will do anything a gun or explosives can't." She tapped something out on it, and a carbon-copy of that hologram showed up on my left arm. "They're built into the wrists of modern armorsuits, for left- or right-handed people. Different functions are activated via handmotions."

I looked it over for several moments, flexed my fingers, then clenched a fist-

***Wuh-SHING!***

Then blinked, as a three-foot blade appeared and flipped out, extended from just above the top of my left hand.

"Whoa. Well, that's convenient."

Ahem. I calmly ignored the sound of guns being drawn behind me, just to be polite.

Aria looked surprised. "An omni-blade? Hm. Archaic, but effective, if that's your thing."

I looked it over for several seconds, before relaxing my hand. The blade dissipated and vanished as though it had never been there. Strange. Looking back to Aria, she was fiddling with her own omni-tool for a few moments. Then she picked up the tablet, handing it back to me.

"That data's interesting. I'd hold onto it, if I were you. Now, seeing as you don't know how things work around here, I'm going to get you out." I blinked. Hm? Get me out? Something about this just screams **'TRAP!'**

"Head out of Afterlife, and to the skycars on your far right. Talk to the batarian there, tell him you're on the job. He'll take you to where you need to go. When you get there, look for a human woman wearing grey and red armor; she'll be accompanied by two men, one young with a beard, looking military. The other is an older man wearing yellow armor with a scarred face. Find them, and tell the woman that I sent you. She'll know what it means. And hurry, if you want to catch them."

...?

Alright, this is going to play out one of four ways;

One; The woman gives me answers I'm looking or, or points me in the right direction.

Two; it's a bloody trap. She and Aria aren't on good terms, and when I introduce myself, she'll try to kill me.

Three; It's a red herring meant to get me out of Aria's tentacles.

Four; I somehow wind up travelling or getting a ride from said woman.

*Beat*

Nah, no way in hell that'd happen. I left Afterlife, replacing the tab- Er, datapad, as she called it, in my case. It still had the data on it, so Aria had just copied it to her omni-tool. I think.

Anyway, heading right.

Okay, found him; a batarian wearing blue and white armor, leaning on some kind of vehicle. Right-o, then.

"Oy, mate." I approached, and he stopped leaning, standing up straight.

"Yeah?"

"I'm on the job."

He hooked a thumb at the skycar. "Get in." I did so, hopping in back and laying my rifle across my knees. A short ten minutes ride later, and he landed. or parked, or whatever you call it, and the doors opened. I got out, rolling my shoulders as he took off, heading back the way we'd come. Huh.

Maybe he's got a hot date.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I wandered through the streets, an odd feeling of deja vu setting in. Walking through bloodstained streets, the sound of gunfire overshadowing the screams. The smell of death assaulting my senses, despite whatever filters this suit has in place. The only thing missing, was the underlying scent of gunpowder.

These battlefields exist everywhere, I suppose. Alone, I walked, marching through the area, seemingly oblivious to what was going on around me. I was ignored by the different armored people who hunkered down behind hastily consctructed barricades, occasionally popping up to fire at someone in the distance.

I didn't know what the hell they were shooting at for a while, before I saw some dumbass salarian,(Wierd lizard-like people with big eyes and forked heads. They're real fidgity, always twitching. They move quickly, always going off on tangents and talking a mile a minute) wearing armor and firing a submachinegun-like weapon stuck his head up for too long.

His entire head asploded, blood and gore splattering all over the place, including his buddy, who sat there gaping like a fish, before he started screaming. The body fell and hit the ground, but the sound was deafened by the other lizard-man.

_'Well, that explains it; snipers. Just my luck, too.'_

I sighed, doubled over, and roadie-ran across the killzone, until I made it to another safe area. I ducked through an automatic door, moving past several people wearing yellow armor, going back into the main thoroughfare. I moved along the walls, watching as several more idiots got their heads taken off.

There was one in particular, a guy in yellow, aiming through a sniper rifle. One instant, he put his finger on the trigger, and the next, the glass exploded out of his scope, as a bullet went through through it and his helmet. Damn, that sniper was a helluva shot. A few moments later, I made it to the far side of the area, right next to a final barricade, and looked around a bit more.

Huh?

There, on other side of the killzone was a large room, with an aircraft in it. I saw several soldiers wearing armor of various colorations; freelance mercenaries, I suppose, seeing as most others were wearing matching color schemes. Except, those chuckleheads weren't what piqued my interest, because right next to them was a trio that looked exactly like Aria had described. A woman wearing grey and red armor that looked much more avanced than the crap the other mercs had. With her were two grown men, both fitting Aria's description perfectly.

Well, then.

I looked left, looked right, then doubled over and hauled ass over, flinching when a bullet whizzed right by me. It was off by a good two feet, but still. It was flying in the wrong goddamn direction for my tastes. When I got close, the older guy said,

"Heads-up."

In an instant, the other two turned, facing me. The bearded black guy had his hand on a pistol at his side, but it was the woman who had my attention.

She was gorgeous, for lack of a better word. Dark brunette hair, a face that would make a goddess green with envy, and if the shape of her armor is anything to go by-

She had a die-no-MIIITE body that would give a eunuch a boner.(Someway, somehow. If all else fails, she'd tether a strap-on to the poor bastard)

Her eyes ran up and down my body, examining my posture, weapons and armor; I had to suppress the shiver that ran down my spine. It was the first involuntary movement I'd made since waking up.

"And you are?" She asked, her voice both compelling and convincing. Kind, yet commanding. It was a little off-putting.

"My callsign is Blade. Aria sent me." I waited a beat, carefully watching all three of them.(I was ready to go for the kill. Beardy first; he's got a hand on his gun, and is the most prepared for a fight. Then the woman; she may look pretty, but she's got the eyes of a killer. Someone who's looked death in the face and made him blink. Someone like me. The old guy can go last, since he's gotta have the slowest reaction time of the three, and he'll hesitate to shoot if his bullets may go through me and hit the girl)

I half-expected her to go for her gun, but no. Her eys widened and she looked me over again, a bit more closely. Normally when someone looks you over like a piece of meat, it's violating, but from her? I'm not sure. It was unsettling, but not unpleasant. I suppressed a second shiver that ran unbidden down my spine.

"That's Cerberus armor, but I don't recognize it, Commander." The black guy pointed out, still tense.

"Aria sent you?" She asked, staring even harder into the visor that covered my eyes.

Nodding, I replied, "Yes; she said you were the one who could help me. I was placed in cryogenic stasis one hundred and fifty years ago; I only woke up yesterday, inside a derelict Cerberus facility. I don't even know my own name, let alone what the hell's going on. Look, it's a long story."

The woman blinked dumbly. "Wait, did you say a hundred and fifty years?"

Nodding, I watched her exchange glances with the other two. Beardy shook his head, expression screaming,_ 'I have no FUCKING clue,' _Whereas the older man just shrugged. When she looked back at me, the older guy spoke up. "Wait. If what you said's true, then you outta know this. What was your country's standard-issue rifle?"

I blinked. "Which service? 'Cuz I was a Marine, and we had several, since we always got hand-me-downs. Most were issued an M16A4, while the guys getting shipped over to the sandbox typically got an M4. Then again, the special forces guys stuck with the M4A1 for the most part. But the US military had just changed its standard-issue weapon to the M416, and was currently fielding it to active-duty troops deploying in combat zones. Me personally, I had an M27 IAR, but I've been issued an M4A1 and M16, depending on the area I was stationed. Our sidearm was the M45 since I was apart of Force Recon, but the overall military-issue was the M9A1."

*Beat*

The veteran turned back to the woman. "Yeah, he's not bullshitting. This guy just might be the real deal, Shepard."

She nodded, and spoke again. "I'm Commander Shepard. You know how to use those weapons?"

My turn to nod mah head. "Unless war has changed more than I thought in the last century, yes. Three-post sights on the handguns, and a built-in optic on the rifle. Starting to think it's Swiss-Army-made, with all the bells and whistles it's got."

Another short awkward silence followed.

"Yeah, he's a freezer-baby. Haven't heard that phrase since my old man got himself an omni." The scarred man remarked, chuckling.

The Commander drily responded, "Right... You know how shields work?"

Again, I nodded. "Electromagnetic fields that deflect incoming projectiles, from bullets to shrapnel. Shielding indicator shows how many more hits you can take before the charge depletes. Anything else?"

"And thermal clips?" She prompted, giving me a pointed look.

Thermal wotsits? OH, right. "Those would be the cartridges used in these new firearms, right?" I asked, head tilted.

She facepalmed, sighing. "Yes and no. Here." She fiddled with her omni-tool for a moment, before mine it up. Several articles had been transferred; manuals on the M8 Avenger, M3 Predator, as well as several other weapons. I looked into them, skimming their contents for a few moments.

Aha, thermal clips. They're effectively magazines for these weapons, and they're loaded into an internal storage compartment.

_'Heh, yo dawg, lemme put a magazine, in yo magazine, ya dig?'_

Yep, sorry to say, that was my first thought on the subject, heheh. That meme was that prevelant, to have shined through in my memories. "Ah, so each thermal clip is effective a disposable, pre-loaded magazine. Well, that explains why they switched back to stripper clips. Hundreds of rounds in a single weapon without bulky ammo boxes, and they're even made to be universal for rifles and pistols. Nice." That's a very appreciable advantage, especially if you've had to carry the extra rounds for the squad's automatic rifleman.(Ie, the guy who carries the belt-fed machinegun)

Also, this now makes sense as to why there are relatively few ammo compartments on the front of the armor, where it is quickest to access.(Only six. Four on the front of my waist, and two horizontal ones on the right side of my abdomen, accessible by my left hand)

"Fifty creds says he kicks the bucket within the hour." The older guy in yellow remarked, turning to his goatee-wearing partner.

"I'll take that and raise you ten." They both nodded, betting on my survival.

Chucklefucks.

Shepard was about to speak, when there was a commotion just behind her. Another batarian, wearing that blue and white mercenary armor, scrambled to a console, shouting orders through it. Then the freelancers next to us began checking their weapons, heading past me and into the killzone. Hm? Must be mass suicide week.

"Damnit. Alright, Blade. Stay close to me, keep your head down, and only shoot who I tell you to shoot. Got that?" For some reason-

"Understood, Shepard." Her voice compelled me, though I couldn't even begin to explain it. It just felt, right. Anyway, as the batarian got back to work repairing the side of that aircraft, Shepard sidled up to him, picking up something off the workbench next to him.

"You're working too hard." She remarked, just before the sound of electricity crackling filled the air, and she stabbed him in the back with said device, turning as she did so, walking away from his twitching, smoking, screaming form.

Her, I _like._

Chuckling, I fell into step just behind her, shaking my head. "A _shocking_ development."

"He was practically _eclectric_." Beardy continued, smirking.

The older guy was just shaking his head. "Ah, quit makin' fun of ole _Sparky,_ he did his job real well. I mean, he was always _ecstatic _about work_._"

*Beat*

"You're all horrible, and you should feel bad." Shepard called back, chuckling to herself. The three of us shared a look; I recognized fellow soldiers, men of valor, strength, and discipline, who have fought numerous battles, and had countless brushes with death.

Men who all have a shared sense of humor.

As we proceded, I asked, "So, what're our chances of walking outta here without catching lead with our teeth?"

"Oh, 'bout one in a million." The old guy replied, pulling an Avenger off his back.

"Lovely. And you two are?"

"Jacob Taylor. Good to meet you, Blade." The black guy, Jacob, I corrected myself, stuck out his hand, which I shook as we walked towards the main barricade.

"Same here, Mr. Taylor."

The other one, older with battle-worn armor, introduced himself. "Zaeed Massani, bounty hunter and badass extraordinair. Keep your head down and try not to get hit, new guy." Err, right. Well, he's friendly enough.

Shepard lead the way, easily clearing the barricade and landing on the other side. I followed close behind, landing in a crouch. It was a bridge, littered with bodies of all kinds. On the other side was a large two-story apartment. Several of the freelancers were across, with a few stragglers picking up the rear. The sniper wasn't taking pot shots at us, so-

"Heh, Tarak's in for one hell of a surprise," Zaeed remarked, shouldering his rifle.

"Alright, let's give the mercs a surprise of our own." Shepard had an Avenger in her hands, taking aim at the nearest mercenary. "The mercs are fair game, but don't shoot the turian sniper! Anything else, wipe 'em out!" She shouted, firing at the nearest freelancer.

He turned as he fell, a half-dozen bulletholes in his back.

Right.

I shouldered my rifle, set it to single, and fell back on muscle memory.

First target. Line 'em up,

And knock 'em dead!

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

First shot, and his head snapped back as he fell limp to the ground. Snap to my second target, merc with green armor. He had just turned and opened his mouth, when I put a double-tap right through his front teeth. Never stood a chance.

Zaeed and Jacob had moved across the bridge, maintaining a steady stream of suppressing fire on the remaining enemies, keeping them from getting a clear shot at Shepard or myself.

Quite suddenly, I saw a massive blue field appear, and two of the mercs were lifted high into the air, motionless.

The fuck?

Well, whatever. I aimed and fired, putting a double-tap in each of them, their limp bodies clattering to the ground.

Move, strafe diagonal.

Two more, armed and ready.

One had his gun up, ready to fire-

He dropped, his head imploding in a bloody mess of gore, as a single shot rang out. The last one was just bringing a rifle to bear, when Shepard got in his face, knocking his gun aside and smashing his face in with the butt of her M8.

Heh, I just love a girl that's willing to get her hands dirty.

Anyway.

Get military. Move it up, back against the doorway. Peek in-

*PIANG!*

A shot connected with my shields, a blue field appearing for a split second. There, behind a shelf. Merc, white/green armor, pistol in his hand.

I rounded the corner, tugging the trigger once, twice, three times. After his bullet-riddled corpse hit the floor, I rushed forward, into the main living quarters.

Check right, clear. High, center. Left, corners, blind spots, check-check.

Turning my muzzle back up high to the overlook, I shouted, "Room clear, move up! Check high-right!" Hearing their footsteps catching up, I dashed up the stairs, putting my back to the support pillar. Left, clear. Right side, two targets. One working the door, the other looking this way.

Fuck 'em.

I turned, diving into the hall, holding the trigger as I went.

***Batatatatataaaat!***

I hit the floor hard, landing on my stomache. In an instant, I shifted to a supported prone position, snapping my sights on the last guy. He'd gotten lucky, as all my rounds struck his buddy while he'd been trying to work the locked automatic door open, using his omni-tool.

He was turning, pistol in hand, when I pulled the trigger and sent four rounds through his crotchplate like a hot knife through butter. Oooh, ouch. He screamed in agonizing anguish, dropping to the floor, gripping his shredded manhood. Not feeling particularly sadistic, I fired one last time, putting him out of his misery. As I shoved myself back to my feet and scrambled down the hall and slammed my back against the doorway, I checked my ammo count.

Two rounds left in my gun. I ejected the clip and took a knee, waiting on the others. Six seconds later, I was joined by the Commander and her two subordinates.(Toadies)

Shepard took her place on the opposite side of the door, while Jacob began working on the door console. Zaeed dropped to a knee and watched our six o'clock while he worked. We waited.

Twenty seconds, before the door slid open, Jacob taking a step back as Shepard and I stepped inside.

Clear right, front-

Sniper, turian, blue armor. Shepard lowered her rifle, holding a hand out in front of me. I lowered my own weapon as Shepard spoke. "Archangel?" She prompted, addressing the turian. Huh. Archangel?

The Turian in question held up his left hand with one finger raised, a universal signal for 'One moment, please,' Before readjusting his grip and waiting, looking downrange. After several seconds, he fired a single shot, and in the distance-

*Fwumpk*

I heard a body hit the ground.

Then he turned, climbing off his makeshift sniper's perch as he reached up with his off-hand, removing his helmet. Setting it down, he took a seat, placing the butt of his rifle on the floor. He was like any other turian I've seen, with light beige plates. Well, except for the blue facepaint, and some kind of targeting visor worn over his left eye.

"Shepard. It's good to see you."

Shepard's jaw dropped, before she grinned. "Garrus! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, just a little target practice, keeping my skills sharp." He replied, his inhuman voice sounding kinda like-

Hm. Peanut brittle. Chocolate-covered peanut brittle. Yeah, that's the best way I can describe it. Erm, anyway.

"You okay?"

The turian shook his head. "Been better, but it sure is nice to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own."

"How did you get yourself into this situation, Garrus? I remembered you being a bit better than this." She was teasing him, smiling and moving closer to her old friend.

"Ah... That's a long story, Shepard. Tell you what. You get me out of here, I'll tell you the whole damn thing." Shepard held out a hand, which the turian took. After she pulled him to his feet, they conversed quietly, while I moved over to the balcony overlooking the bridge.

Hm?

Across it, I noticed something moving. A _lot_ of somethings.

"Hey boss, we've got movement." They both instantly stopped, moving to the balcony, looking across. The turian, Garrus, looks through his riflescope for a few moments.

"Scouts. Eclispe, I think. Here, take a look." He hands his rifle to Shepard, who also peers to the other end of the bridge-

***POWFUHL!***

Before firing a single shot, and one of the figures on the far side fell over, clanking to the ground. "More than scouts. One less now, though."

The Turian, Garrus, nodded. "Indeed. Just like old times, Shepard..." He muttered, moving back to his perch.

Setting up behind the guardrail, I asked, "Hm? The hell are those things?"

Down at the far end of the bridge were several of those human-shaped things, but they moved oddly, awkwardly, almost mechanically.

"Mechs, mass-produced automated dones used for reconnaissance. Their targeting systems are in their heads, so aim there."

Aha, generic mooks. "Roger that." Bracing my rifle against the guardrail, I took a breath, and slowly exhaled. One, two, three, four... I got a quick count of the enemy numbers, and called it out. "Headcount of seventeen, repeat, headcount of one-seven."

"Got it. Jacob, watch our backs. Zaeed, post up on the left, cover for Garrus. Blade, keep your head down and try not to get hit. Alright, let's bust 'em!"

I nodded, already lining up my sights.

First target!

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

***Badadadadadaaat!***

Gunfire tore through the air, leaving these little popping noises as they whizzed past my head, not close enough to trigger my shields. I fired, putting a four-count burst in the metal A-hole's head, tearing it from the frame as it started firing wildly. Another one down.

These things seemed endless. I'd taken out two dozen, and that's not counting whatever the others shot.

Hey, wait. Perfect.

Three of them were converging, and they would be lined up for a perfect shot in three.

Two.

One.

I shot to my feet, off-hand holding my rifle in a vice-like grip as I held the trigger, sending a straight line of lead downrange, through the first, second, and third mechs' heads all at once, with only five rounds. I felt a few slight impacts against my person, and noticed the blue field appearing again, with these little ping noises sounding with each hit.

But the indicator in my visor was barely moving, maybe 1/40 per hit? If that. Probably not even that much. Their bullets weren't doing much, that's for sure. After seeing that, I adopted a more aggressive tactic, bracing myself against the guardrail, using it as a barricade and firing upon the enemy, regardless of the incoming fire.

One, two, five, nine.

Twenty-six mechs were down and out before someone grabbed the back of my armor, yanking me down behind cover.(Nearly cracking the guardrail itself. I had a pretty good grip on it)

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING?!" Shepard shouted, obviously pissed off. I pulled myself up, innocently responding,

"What?"

"Whattaya mean, WHAT?! I told you to be careful and keep your head down, idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Hm. Make that _royally_ pissed.

"...I'm not being careless, Shepard. Their weapons are barely registering on my shields." The indicator wasn't even an eighth of the way down, after taking so many hits.

The look on her face shifted from annoyed to 'Duh?' In an instant. "What? You just took more than two dozen heavy pistol rounds, and you're telling me your shields are still at full charge?" Now she was more perplexed than angry.

"I'm at three-fourths-" After another five seconds, they began recharging. A soft *_Ping!*_ alerted me that they were at maximum. "Er, make that full. "

"Well, what the fuck." She flatly said, slightly irritated.

I tilted my head, confused. "You mean all shields aren't this good? 'Cuz I just figured we haven't run into any, yet."

"No. Scratch that, FUCK no! A military-grade shield will only hold off ten or eleven pistol rounds, and eight or nine from an assault rifle. If you're lucky, one, MAYBE one from a sniper rifle." She was shaking her head, in awe. "You're one lucky SOB, Blade. A personal shield that strong isn't easy to come by, hell, it shouldn't even exist, to be honest. Sounds more like an armored vehicle barrier."

Shrugging, I moved back into position. "If you don't mind, we'll discuss whether or not I should even exist when we're not getting shot at, Shepard. Till then," I pulled my gun over the rail, taking aim. "We've got work to do."

Nothing more could be heard over the thunder of gunfire.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After another twenty minutes of being swarmed by hordes of mechs, and some kind of crane appeared, slowly carrying a massive, off-white steel box. The smaller mechs and Eclipse mercs had thinned out, to the point where there were only salarians and the occasional human left. Most were hanging back out of our sightline, no longer eager to catch lead.

"Huh? The fuck is that thing?"

Garrus(The Turian) cursed. "Shit! Heavy mech!"

Shepard then began snickering quietly. "That problem should take care of itself, heheheh." As the crane dropped that big metal box, it started to unfold itself. Within moments, it looked like a giant version of one of those mechs, with a helluva lot more armor, and MUCH bigger guns.

My visor then scanned it.

_YMIR Heavy Assault Mech. Mid-level threat, hard target. Maximum firepower reccommended. _

Maximum firepower? Thaaat's not a good sign. I readied myself, braced against te guardrail.

Breathe in, breathe out-

***Ba-Ba-Baloomsh!***

Eh? The hell?

The heavy had turned, and blasted several salarians with rockets, sending blood, gore and various armor pieces flying through the air.

"Hey, look, it's raining lizards," I remarked, chuckling.

Shepard was shaking her head with a smirk. "They're amphibian."

I turned to look at her, giving my traditional sardonic/sarcastic response. "Well, it's raining frogs, then; just to be politically correct. Y'know, 'cuz I never will be again."

She cracked up, giggling. "Eheheheheh, you're going to get along great with Joker, I can already tell."

Ooookay. Dunno if I should be happy or sad about that. Eh, no matter.

Anyway, it took some more time, but after a short while the Eclipse mercs finally managed to destroy the YMIR with rockets, but not before it got one final shot off, killing the lot of 'em. Heh, saves us the time and ammo.

"Well, that takes care of that." The sniper hopped off his perch, rolling his shoulders.

"Yep, just the Blood Pack and Blue Suns left. Think we can break through?" Shepard was reloading her rifle, while Zaeed had a knife in his hand, etching a few more notches in the stock of his rifle. I counted well over two hundred of them on just the one side. Guy must be a good shot.

"I doubt it, but just maybe-"

***BADABADABALOOOOOOMSHCKAaaaa...!*** The entire building shook beneath our feet, rumbling uncertainly.

Fuck. My. Life.

"Uh, hey, boss? Please tell me that was your stomache," I snarked, shaking my head ruefully. This was just great, just fucking lovely. I hate my luck

"I wish."

Zaeed was on one knee, hand on the floor. "Felt like it came fom the lower levels, high explosives, I'd wager."

Now it was Shepard's turn to shake her head. "Great. Garrus?"

The Turian was on his omni-tool, already headed back to his perch. "Well, they had to use their brains eventually. Get going, Shepard! Door to the lower levels is just under the staircase!"

She nodded, moving for the door. "I'm not leaving you alone! Blade! Keep him alive!"

I was already at the guardrail, setting up. "You got it. Both of us or none of us, Shepard."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Bridge was clear of everything but bodies and debris. I was waiting, expecting the enemy to come in droves.

Breath in, breath out.

Focus; think of nothing but the enemy before yo-

"So, Shepard's working with Cerberus now."

Or, not. "Dunno. One of her toa- Erm, subordinates, is. I've no affiliations; this armor was kindly, ah, donated by said organisation, though why they did it, I've no idea. I take it you and the Commander go back?"

Garrus nodded, still looking downscope. "Yeah. Two years ago, we worked together to take down a rogue Spectre. Some months after, her ship was ambushed and destroyed. I'd just barely gotten into one of the escape pods, and I got frontrow seats. The Normandy was completely obliterated, with Shepard onboard. Frankly, I'm still shocked to see her alive." I blinked, impressed.

"Huh. And she survived getting tossed into vacuum, to boot? Er, remind me not to piss her off, mate."(Now, I shudder to imagine if I actually managed that. Eoogh... Probably wouldn't be enough left of me to fill my helmet)

The sniper chuckled, responding, "Noted. And if you do manage it, give me a heads-up. I want time to jump ship."

We both chuckled, still scanning for enemy targets. "Huh. Why aren't they attacking yet? Are these punks smarter than the last group?" I was starting to get a bit anxious. By now, a frontal ground assault would already be underway, as there's no point in delaying an op when the enemy knows you're coming, can see your position, and is ready for you.

"Doubtful. The Blood Pack isn't known for the intelligence of its members. Ah, here they come now."

Hm?

At the far end, just now approaching the barricade, something... Wonky-looking, freaky, even, with sharp teeth, holding a short-barreled, stockless weapon.

"The hell are those ugly bastards?" I asked, studying it carefully through my scope.

"Vorcha; they're more of a pest than anything. About the equivalent of your human cockroaches, but bigger, dumber, and they can carry a shotgun. They're nearly impossible to get rid of, but in combat... They die just like anything else."

He fired, and the nearest, Vorcha, dropped to the ground, unmoving. Hm. I lined up my shot on the next one, sending a short bust downrange. Orange blood flew as the creature fell to the ground, an inhuman cry echoing through the air.

We killed several more, as they rushed at us firing shotguns with wild abandon, their bullets not even coming close.

"Geeze, they just can't take a hint. How many of the fuckers are we gonna hafta kill before they figure out they can't get across?"

Garrus responded with about the same sentiment. "Oh... About another three dozen, or so. No one ever accused the Vorcha of being very intelligent, anyway. Charging the enemy is about the limit of their tactical prowess; that's why they're almost always equipped with either a shotgun or flamethrower."

Grrreat. Bullet-sponge redshirt cannon fodder.

After another while of shooting the sharp-toothed bastards, Garrus cursed, ducking just as a spray of buckshot grazed just over his head. "Fuck! Krogan!"

At the far end of the bridge, was a large, inhuman figure, holding a large shotgun at waist-height. "Krogan? The hell's that?" I asked, taking aim at the creature. Big-ass sucker.

"Krogan, living, breathing tanks. Their skin's like armor, and their breath is lethal. He was probably in charge of all those vorcha we just finished slaughtering."

Big, tough, and angry. Lovely. After a moment of adjusting my aim, I felt a slug impact my shields, the impact rattling me. About a nineth of the charge was drained by it, too. Damn. Strong gun.

My visor highlighted the fucker's ugly mug; around his eyes, and beneath that plate on his forehead.

There.

I tugged the trigger as I tightened my support-hand grip, spraying lead downrange in a straight line. Several slugs connected with his face and forehead, with the last two impacting the hump behind his neck. '_Damnit, still breathing_.' I slapped the clip eject, hosing him down with another forty rounds as three more collided with my shields.

After ninety-five rounds went through his head and hump, he droppd to his knees, finally halting in his charge, before falling face-first on the ground, going still as streams of yellow and red fluids spilled out around him, forming a pool of orange. "Huh. Tough son of a bitch," I remarked, ejecting another clip.

"Yeah. Most are dumb as a rock, but they make up for it in nigh-indestructibility. Whatever you do, don't anger one in confined quarters. It won't end pretty, for you or the walls."

Right.

More time passed, more enemies killed.

"Never miss twice..." I almost didn't notice myself repeating those same words, ones I'd heard before. But I couldn't recall where I'd heard them.

"Hm? What's that, a metaphor?" The Turian rumbled, dropping another Vorcha.

"No, it's a blessing. I heard it from a sniper, once. Not sure why, but I remember it, just not the person I heard it from." Strange, I still can't remember her. It was a woman, definitely. A sniper, but- I just can't remember her face.

Not even her name.

"You can't remember?" He replied, racking the bolt of his gun.

"No. It's a long story. Remind me to tell it to you when we're not getting shot at."

"Heh, you got it." He fired again, taking down another enemy. "Scoped and dropped."

I lined up my sights, sending a single round through two enemy skulls. "Look, ma, no face."(If you can't guess where this is from, you've got issues.)

Garrus got another, right in the head. "Right between the eyes."

We shared a look, before chuckling as I said, "Looks like I'm not the only one full of one-liners,"

"Nah, it's more like two-liners."

*Beat*

"Heheheh," Another shared chuckle. We had a similar sense of humor, as well. "I get the feeling we're gonna get along just fine."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Some ten minutes later**

Garrus put down the final Blood Pack mercenary, just as we heard one of the doors inside the apartment being cut open.

"Aw, come on! We just finished clearing the bastards out," Growling, I dashed over to the other side of the room, firing upon the assembled mercs that just stepped inside.

"Damnit." Garrus set up next to me, picking off those nearest the stairs. "Agh, where's Shepard when you need her?"

We both paused for a moment, listening.

...

"Nope, guess she isn't going to be quite that ironic. Ah, well," Garrus commented, taking aim once more. Down below, there were a half-dozen Vorcha, and three krogan, one of which was huge, even for one of his species. Shiiiit.

He was advancing, already at the base of the stairs. "Fuck, he's got shields. I'm moving to intercept, keep yourself alive, Garrus!" I got to my feet, dashing out the door and down the hall, throwing my back against the support pillar. Down below, I heard even more gunfire, coming from a different direction. Shepard was here, then. Good.

Breathe in, breathe out. Just as his heavy-ass footsteps got near enough-

I rounded the corner, dashing forward. He was right there, crimson eyes wide when I knocked his gun away, and they widened even further when he saw what was about to happen. Because of his anatomy, he was unable to react fast enough when I pulled my leg back and- I wasn't entirely sure if krogan anatomy was anything like that of a human, but based on what happened, it's safe to say it is. Ahem.

And he was even less prepared when I gave him an almight whalloping **KICK **in the crotch, shattering the crotchplate of his suit, crushing his gonads like itty-bitty robins' eggs. Between the cracks, dark orange blood seeped out, as the krogan squeeked, dropping his gun and cradling his stubby arms to his smashed/shredded testicles.

I relished the look on his ugly mug as he went crosseyed, and even moreso the look he adopted when I snatched up his shotgun in my off-hand, and smashed the muzzle against his face.

"No don't!" Someone shouted, far too late. I jerked the trigger.

"Boom!"

***BOOOMSHK!-**Crick-_CraPOPK!*_

...

GAAAAAAAH!

"GAH!" Up the stairs I dashed, gritting my teeth. My entire left shoulder burned, like it'd been shredded with a steak knife. I had to get back in the fight, but first, assess the damage. I looked at my arm, and found it was twisted wrong; dislocated. Damnit.

I breathed in, breathed out. Oh, this is gonna hurt like a-

*Pul-Cric-**CRACK!***

*Beat*(Wait for it)

"SON OF A FUCKMOTHERING, COCKGARGLING WHORE!"

Aaaaaagh! FUCK! OW!

Son of a dick, my arm felt like it'd been ripped out, but after a moment, there was a slight sting, before a cooling numbness spread out along my shoulder. Agh, painkillers; administered AFTER the suit reset my shoulder.

Sadistic piece of shit.

Gritting my teeth, I went back around the corner and down the stairs, suppressing the few remaining mercenaries. I'd worry about myself later; I've got allies to save first.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After the Blood Pack had been eliminated and we all regrouped with Garrus on the second floor, Shepard gave me another dressing-down. "What the hell were you thinking, using a krogan shotgun?"

I shrugged. "Didn't think they used a bloody cannon for a handheld firearm. Lesson learned, damned thing dislocated my shoulder."

Jacob and Zaeed shared a look. "That explains the screaming."

Shepard glared at me again. "I thought you got hit." Again, I shrugged.

"That would have been preferable. A bullet wound against body armor isn't as bad as a dislocation, in terms of pain. That aside, any bright ideas, O fearless leader? I'd rather not spend the whole day under seige."

Shepard looked to Garrus, who shook his head. "Only the Blue Suns are left. Tarak's got the toughest group, and the best equipment. We might be better off if we-"

There was a slight rumbling in the distance, a faint roar that was getting louder by the minute. "Uh, do you guys hear that?" I asked, looking around for the source. It was definitely NOT something we should ignore on a battlefield.

Garrus paused, cocking his head, listening. Ahem. That's when I remembered that aircraft.

"GET DOWN!" I threw myself to the floor, just as a massive hail of gunfire tore through the apartment, followed by several small rockets that flew through, nearly blowing us to pieces.

Ow.

There was nothing but a ringing sound in my ears as I pushed myself up, looking around. When it died down-

Zaeed was shifting on his face, moaning. "Aughh, that fucker needs his eyes checked, all four of 'em."

Jacob was over there too, and looked up. "I'm good."

I looked right, and saw Shepard. "Ugh, holler if yer dead."

Pulling myself into a crouch, I called, "I'm up. Fucked up, but I'm up. Where's-" I was about to ask where Garrus was, when I saw him. He was on the floor, on his side. "Shepard, I'm- Hit..." His voice was weak, and purple blood was pooling around him. Not good.

"GARRUS!"

Shepard dashed over to her friend, skidding to a stop on her knees, holding her omni-tool over him. That's when the roar of that engine deafened everything out again. I looked out the balcony, and saw it hovering there.

"_ARCHANGEL! No one screws with the Blue Suns!_" A voice shouted through a loudspeaker. It shifted right, hovering just outside the other window, when a spotlight attached to it shined inside, covering Shepard and her downed comrade.

Just as I heard its guns spin up, I had only one thought; '_Shepard... I must protect Shepard!_'

And like that, everything went grey, just before I blacked out.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Zaeed was just preparing to throw himself to the deck again, when the kid caught his eye.

His armor... There were these little red lights appearing all over it. Dim at first, but within seconds, they were blinding. Even his visor changed, glowing bright, blood red; the color of a krogan's eyes.

Just as the gunship was starting to fire, he dashed right towards the window, tossing his rifle aside. He was insane! The ship turned, firing!

The shells impacted his shields, a dozen of them before they broke and even more flew past, scraping the armor, sending sparks flying, but he ran on, paying death no heed. In the space of an eyeblink, he was across the room, jumping out the window, that insane son of a bitch!

But he landed smack-dab on top of that damned gunship. He caught hold, and held up his omni, a blade forming.

That- That crazy son of a bitch was actually trying to destroy a gunship with an Omni-blade!

Tarak shifted left, going around the building. I lost sight of it for several seconds but when it reappeared, the kid, Blade, had been tearing away at the hull, ripping out right good chunks of steel-plated armor! Tarak was obviously panicking, the ship twitching and flying awkward, but he didn't get the chance to actually DO anything.

The kid practically ripped the windshield clean off, looming over Tarak like some kinda god of death. The batarian was shitting himself, staring up at the crazy bastard before he reached down and plucked the two hundred pound Blue Suns commander up by his neck, and held him up over the the side.

Then he stabbed him, three, four times and tossed him aside like a ragdoll, well over the side of the bridge, to fall some twenty-odd stories onto hard rock.

He took a step back, and gave a-

The fucker actually JUMPED! Right off the ship, and he... Wasn't gonna make it!

What the? But, how?

He did it. He flew fifteen feet through the air, and caught hold of the guardrail.

"Fuck!"

I was up, moving over and grabbing his wrist before he fell, Jacob helping me. We got him over, and dumped him on the floor, but he wasn't moving, not even breathing. The lights on his armor faded away, but he- He didn't get back up.

"Damn... Another one down." I looked over, to where Shepard was fawning over the Turian. He was another lost cause, too much bloodloss.

_'He's as good as dead,' _I thought, just as movement caught my eye.

"Holy shit!"

The kid sat up, rubbing his helmet. "Augh, anyone get the plates of that semi?" How did-?

"Heh, crazy bastard. C'mon, up you go." I offered him my hand, which he took. After the kid got up, he started looking around for his rifle. A man has his priorities, after all.

"Shepard, we're clear! I'm calling the shuttle now!" Jacob announced, hailing our ride through his omni-tool.

Well. Goddamn if this wasn't an interesting mission.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Alright, you all need to know this. I wrote this out fully, in rich text format. When I was done, it was 62 kilobytes. Meaning, somewhere in the ballpark of 10,000 to 20,000 words or more. Then, I lost it all when someone fucked with my computer. After that, I had to completely retype SIX FUCKMOTHERING HOURS of work. **_**I AM PISSED! **_**But I perservered, and did it all over again. Probably not quite as good as the first time around, but still. I did it. Twice in a fucking row. So if you're displeased with this chapter, here's what you can do;**_

_**Head down to your local pharmacy. **_

_**Ask for something called Viagra.**_

_**And it'll help you go FUCK YOURSELF!**_

_**HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**_

_**...Feel free to use that line when someone's pissing you off. Works wonders in the retirement community.**_

_**Anyway. Next chapter WILL BE BETTER. I garuntee. This was a rush job, and I suck when people rush me. **_


	3. Chapter 3

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#3 _**Names and Faces**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH A DOUBLER!**_

It took six minutes for a carbon copy of the shuttle I'd hijacked to pick us up. From there, we carried Garrus onto it, Shepard cooing and comforting her dying friend the entire time...

During the ride, I took notice of how the others stored their rifles on the back of their armor, and I fumbled for a few moments with my own, before I managed to get it to stick in the center of my upper back, right over my spine, where it folded in on itself, just within arm's reach. Huh... Guess I can only carry one weapon on my back, instead of two or three.

Anyway. Roughly fifteen minutes passed, before the shuttle landed, and the four of us carried the wounded turian out, into a massive cargo hold...(I was on the back-left, supporting the sniper's legs along with Zaeed. I let Jacob and Shepard lead the way here) It was stainless steel, for the most part. Straight ahead, we carried Garrus, to what looked like a strange automatic door...

It opened when we got within five feet, and closed the moment we were inside and clear. It was a small, cramped room... An elevator? I felt the floor beneath us rising...

It was definately an elevator. It rose for several seconds, before coming to a halt and the doors opened. Zaeed and I backed out, awkwardly let Jacob and Shepard turn us around, and they lead us around the elevator shaft along-

Deck 3, or so it was written on the wall. We crab-walked a good fifteen feet, through another automatic door, into an infirmary. There was a middle aged, grey-haired woman(Grey or not, she was pretty. Beautiful, for an older woman) inside, already on her feet, directing us to lay Garrus on the nearest bed.

"Lay him down, quickly now!"

We managed to get the poor sod on the bed without dropping him,(...More than once) and sat back, watching as the doc started working...

Zaeed shook his head after several minutes and walked out, heading for the elevator. Jacob saluted the commander and walked out, doing the same.

...I was the odd asshole out, it seems.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Some time passed, and I just stood there, shifting my weight and rolling my shoulders every now and again, watching on as Shepard watched the doctor work.

After awhile, I was bored shitless...

So I started humming the tune of Mrs Robinson.

It took several minutes of that, before Shepard straightened up and turned to look at me, blinking.

...I think she forgot I was even there.(She didn't get the refrence, either)

"Ahem, Shepard... There isn't much you can do for now, unless they train soldiers to double as surgeons, these days..."

She shook her head and looked back to the doctor, who was still working on Garrus, using several robotical machines connected to the ceiling and bed.

"He's right, Commander. Go on, I'll call you back when I've finished."

Shepard swallowed, but nodded. "Alright. Do what you can, Dr. Chakwas."

After that, she pulled me along and out, past a mess hall filled with staring crewmen, back to the elevator.

Once she finished dragging me in, she hit the button and crossed her arms, tapping one of her boots.

...I take it she's nervous.

"Relax, Shepard. She knows what she's doing; anxiety won't help the situation." She gave me a look, then sighed, uncrossing her arms.

"I know, but I can't help worrying... He's a good friend. And you're right; Chakwas is one of the best."

I blinked. "...Chockwaz? Erm, how do you spell that, exactly?"

"C-H-A-K-W-A-S."

...

"...What? What is it?" She asked, staring at me again, since I hadn't responded for several seconds. I was worried for a second that she could see my stupid expression, but I remembered my helmet.

"...Remind me to never get injured or sick, 'cuz there is no way in hell I'm putting my life in the hands of someone whose name can be rearranged into Dr. Hacksaw."

Shepard was silent for a moment, before she busted out laughing.

"I've gotta tell that to Joker!"

...Joker? Huh. Wonder if that's meant to be ironic...

...Or if he wears clown facepaint?(Unfortunately, he doesn't)

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The elevator finally came to a stop, and we both stepped out on deck 2. Hmm...

In front, was a massive console that had a holographic depiction of a ship, what I assumed was this ship, along with several people wearing those black and white BDUs arranged around it at various consoles.

To the end nearest us and the elevator, was a platform that allowed someone to overlook everyone else, with a guardrail around it. To the left of it was an empty console, and to its right, was another that had a woman with-

...With orange hair manning it, who turned and greeted us.

"Welcome back, Commander. If you don't mind my asking, who's the soldier you brought back with you?" She was cheerful, polite, and smiled a lot.

...I don't trust her.

"Kelly, this is Blade, and he's going to be accompanying the crew for the forseeable future."

I nodded, never taking my eyes off the orangette. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." I try to be polite, at least.

"I see... I'm Kelly Chambers. Nice to meet you." Hmm...Her expression was friendly, but... There was an intelligence spinning in her eyes... Something about that didn't sit right with me.

Shepard started off, moving well around the center console, heading for the long hall on the other side of the room. CIC, I think it was labelled.

I followed along behind her, as she greeted and was greeted by many of the crew, nearly all of them looking at her with admiration... Hmm... They respected and adored their Commander.

At the other end of the hall, were two doorways. One had a closed hatch, with the word 'AIRLOCK' written above it, but the other...

It lead into a classic cockpit, with a bearded guy sitting in the pilot's seat, flicking through holographic screens with practiced ease. He wore the standard uniform that the other crew had on, albeit with one alteration. He had on a ballcap with 'SR2' on it. Huh.

"Joker, I think I've found your long-lost twin."

The pilot turned in his seat, looking back at us...

He looked me up and down, then back at Shepard. "Nah, he's not good-looking enough to be related to me. Close, though." Heheh, I see why they call him Joker.

"Good to see you're as serious as ever."

"Oh, you know me, commander. Your straight-laced sidekick. Sarcasm is as foreign to me as mouthwash is to a krogan. How's Garrus doing?"

Shepard's expression shifted, taking on a morose look. "Not good. He took a bad hit... The doc's patching him up now as we speak."

Joker offered a reassuring smile. "Well, I wouldn't worry about him, then. Chakwas is the best there is."

She smirked again, chuckling, her humorour mood returning. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Joker. Did you know that her name is an anagram?"

He blinked, and sat there for a moment. "Anagram? What, you mean like rearranging the letters into something else?"

Shepard simply smiled. "Dr. Hacksaw."

...

The guy's jaw dropped, "You... You're kidding me, right? Right?"

"Not at all, Joker. In fact, it was Blade here that pointed that out to me just earlier."

I took this as my cue, and started humming Mrs Robinson again...

Joker shifted in his seat again to get a better look at me, before he busted out laughing.

"Ahahahahaha! C'mon, Shepard's not that old!"

I raised an eyebrow, though no one saw it. "Not her. The doctor."

"Heheheh, nice! I'm surprised you know that one. That song is ancient!"

I tilted my head, glancing at Shepard...

She caught on, giving an exceptionally discreet nod.

"That's because I am a hundred and seventy-four years old."

He blinked and started at me again. "...And I thought MY name was Joker."

Out of nowhere, a female voice souned... "He is not falsifying information, Mr. Moreau."

I glanced behind me to see if someone had snuck up, instinctually placing a hand on my gun...

"I am not behind you, Mr. Blade."

...Well, she wasn't lying. No one was behind me. I looked back at Shepard, who was sporting a smirk. "EDI, you can stop messing with him now, even if it is fun."

"I am simply stating facts, Shepard."

"...Alright, you've had your fun, playing tricks on the new guy. Just who... And where, are you, then?" To my left, appeared a blue hologram; a sphere on a spire, with sound bars shifting as it spoke.

"I am the Enhanced Defence Intelligence. The crew refer to me as 'EDI.' I am currently installed within the AI core, on Deck 3."

...

"A computer?... No, an actual AI. Huh. Wow. Looks like the rapture still hasn't quite got here yet. Just a heads-up, if I hear any Daisy Bell, I'm bringing out the magnets."

Joker snorted a laugh, but EDI responded truthfully. "Very well, Blade. However, magnetic fields do not affect my processing or data storage hardware."

...

"Er, it does know that I was making a joke, right?" I asked, turning to look at Shepard. She was simply smiling, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I think she's aware. C'mon, I'd like to hear that long story you promised me." Nodding, I followed her, tossing an over-the-shoulder wave as I went.

"See you around, Joker, EDI."

In the distance, I heard the AI saying something to Joker, but I couldn't decipher what...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard lead me back through the CIC, to the leftmost door, through that and a small empty room with access hatches, into a laboratory...

Inside, working on something sciencey, was a salarian that was wearing far more advanced gear than any of the others I'd seen. He looked to be a good deal older than most, and one of the prongs on his head was missing. He'd seen combat before, judging from some of the scars.

"Hello Shepard. Good to see you. Who is this you have?" He spoke like every other salarian; extra fast.

"Hey, Mordin. He's someone I picked up from Omega, by the name of Blade. Since Chakwas is busy, would you check him out for me, make sure he isn't dying of anything?"

Mordin nodded, finally turning away from whatever it was he'd been working on. "Of course, no trouble."

"Thanks. After you're finished, send him over to the conference room. I'll be back in a few minutes." Shepard turned, walked back out into the CIC...

...Leaving me with Mr. Motormouth.

He was eyeing me up, thoughtfuly rubbing his chin.

"No needles, doc. I've gotten enough shots for one day." I snarked, just as he shook his head.

"No need, unless you are fond of them. Remain still, please." He held up his left arm, his omni-tool appeared as he slowly waved it across me, from head to toe.

After doing that three more times, he looked over it, eyes flicking across the screen...

"Hm. No pressing issues, excellant physical condition. Pulse and metabolic rate irregular, hormones unbalanced... Suggests genetic manipulation, perhaps adrenal stimulation. Pupils dilated, body temperature fluxuating. Anesthetic?"

I nodded. "Yeah, dislocated my shoulder firing a krogan shotgun with one hand. The armor automatically fixed it and shot a dose of painkillers. Stuff should wear off in another couple hours."

He shook his head. "Unlikely. Painkiller still being administered... Multiple torn, sprained muscles and ligaments present. Am... Surprised you are still standing. Also, anesthetic not cause of dilated pupils. Stimulants administered alongside opiates, to alleviate grogginess? Possible. Increased adrenaline flow also present, could be cause. Or is that symptom of genetic manipulation? Blade, was it?"

I nodded. Man, he talked a lot.

"Forewarning; armorsuit currently repairing damage to body. Is inadvisable to fully remove within next eight hours. Now, first, must allow body to recover before returning to field. Will inform Shepard. Nothing else of importance."

He started off, going back to his science, when I remembered something.

After a moment, I realised I had a brainfart.

"Oh, Mordin, I have something that might give you some answers." He looked up, curiosity piqued.

"Hm? What is it?"

I pulled out that datapad, handing it to him. "Data on a Cerberus project, I downloaded it when I left the facility I woke up in yesterday. I read some of it, but most doesn't make much sense to me."

He took it, skimming through its contents...

"Hmm... Interesting... Very interesting. Cerberus attempts at creating superior infantry, somewhat successful, even..." He copied the data to his omni-tool, handing the datapad back to me. I stored it, watching as he started doing something with his omni-tool.

"Hm. Strong encryptions on experimental results data. Will take time." He turned, going back to whatever he'd been working on earlier, pointing to the other door in the room.

"Head through that door, then take the one on left. Will inform you of whatever I find."

...Okay.

I headed through, still a bit puzzled. Well, he's a salarian, so I can't really tell whether that was normal or not. Still.

Inside the conference room, I found a nice table with waist-height guardrails along the edges of the room. Huh...

I moved to the right-side of it, leaning back on the guardrail, getting comfortable. Well... Dunno what Shepard was doing, but she'll be here soon enough.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Another five minutes passed before Commander Shepard walked through the door, wearing the standard BDU uniform. Her hair was wet...

...And holy fuckmothering son of a dick! I was right! That armor didn't do her justice...

"Well, now... See something you like?" She teased, smiling that lovely little smirk, one eyebrow quirked. Whoops, she'd noticed me staring, even when I had a helmet on.

"Indeed... I'm not sure who designed the uniforms of this era, but I owe him a drink."

She chuckled, moving further inside, even swaying her hips as she walked...

...Man, I do not get paid enough to deal with this while locked inside a metal man-shaped coffin.

As she got even closer, I wondered aloud, "Why do I get the distinct feeling I'm about to be taken advantage of?"

She didn't answer until she was right up in front of me, the top of her head coming up to the bottom of my visor. "That'd be because you are."

She wrapped an arm around my waist, just as-

Huh?

Shit!

An alarm sounded in my helmet, a red indicator appearing on the far right side, stating high-level threat, extreme likelihood of injury. Just as that happened, I felt a pressure on my abdomen.

With just a casual glance down, I saw the gun she had pressed against me, her other arm pinning herself to me.

"...Are all women this aggressive nowadays, or are you just desperate?" I sniped, not exactly worried about a single shot to the gut. Been there, done that. Painful, but manageable.

"Don't be coy."

My eyebrow started rising against my will.(I'm a real masochist, sometimes) "Oh? Why not, seeing as I'm liable to get shot either way?"

"Just answer my questions..." She growled, still managing to turn me on despite the gun. She looked cute when she was angry...

"You haven't asked me any."

Her eye twitched. Heheh, I think I'm getting on her nerves...

She grinded the gun into my gut as she spoke. "Who are you?"

"I've already answered that one. Blade."

"Your REAL name and background. Now. I don't have a lot of patience..."

"Again... I do not know. I remember many things from my time, but nothing of my precious memories. My family, friends, hobbies, prefrences... Gone. More than a century in cryo will do that to you, y'know? I've already given Mordin the information I took from the Cerberus facility I woke up in. The dossier listed my personal information as 'lost in records' due to a clerical error. Instead of bothering to look, they christened me with a new name."

Her eyes narrowed. "That story doesn't match up. EDI confirmed that there was no project on record, and it doesn't make any sense... Cerberus hasn't been around that long, so they couldn't have been the ones to put you in the freezer."

"They weren't..? Hmm... Strange... I only knew the place was Cerberus because of the daimond symbol. It was on the walls, the uniforms, the armor, the shuttle... I didn't know what it meant until I was on Omega. Someone explained that Cerberus is some neo-space-nazi terrorist group. That about right?"

She was quiet for a time...

"...I still have the datapad, if you'd like to examine it for yourself." I offered, starting to get a bit uncomfortable. I couldn't feel her tits pressed against me, damnit! So all I felt was a pressure in the small of my back and gut. Kinda irritating.

"Later. EDI!" She addressed the AI...?

On the table behind her, that blue hologram appeared. "Yes, Shepard?"

"Put that hail through to the Illusive Man. I want to hear it from him."

...? Illusive Man?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The entire table lowered itself into the floor, and a holographic ring appeared on the floor, before rising up in a cylidrical field...

"Whoa... The hell is that?" I asked, no longer concerned with the gun.

"Illusive Man's fancy comm device. I'm still not sure why he decided to use an entire room for it on a frigate... Move. And don't do anything you'll regret." I humoured her, going along when she pulled me into the field of light, oddly confused when it got dark inside of it. But I could see... Someone sitting in a chair, smoking a cigarette, staring at yes.

"_What is it, Shepard?_"

His voice... I couldn't place his accent, but it was distinct.

"I've got myself a soldier who claims to be a test subject for one of your pet projects, but EDI couldn't confirm it." Her voice was neutral, surprising, considering she still had that gun jammed against my kidney.

"_Hmm... That depends. Which project would that be?_"

I answered for her. "Spartan Project, prototype unit 0."

His eyes were glowing blue... Some kind of retina screens, perhaps? Or are they artificial? His expression didn't change in the slightest. "_Spartan? That was a secret, off the records. I closed that project down two years ago, when I began rebuilding you, Shepard. It achieved promising results, but bringing you back and assembling the SR2 were my top priorities._"

"Huh. Well, they were operating until just yesterday, when someone kicked in the doors and steamrolled right over the entire staff. There were no enemy casualties; no blood, no bodies, nothing to suggest they blasted their way in. I woke up less than six hours after they'd left, and made my way out after poking around enough to find out that I'm the only Spartan they finished, and I sure as hell wasn't in Kansas anymore."

Illusive Man leaned forward in his chair, tapping his cigarette into an ashtray build into it. "_Interesting... I cut funding to that project entirely. Unless someone else was backing them, they would've had no means of continuing their work. That doesn't bode well... Hmph. You. What is your name?_"

He was addressing me again... "Seeing as your own subordinates couldn't be bothered to look for it, I don't have one. My entire dossier was lost due to 'clerical error' so they stuck me with the callsign Blade, and started from scratch."

He took another drag on his cancer stick. "_A fitting name... Shepard is the tip of the spear; The Spartans were meant to be the cutting edge right behind her._" Huh.

"Great... Explains why I'm the first one they finished. Might wanna change the name of your organization to 'Metaphors Incorporated.' " There goes my snarky sense of humor again...

"_And perhaps you should remember that you were brought back for your skill, not your sense of wit._" He shot right back, tapping his smoke again. Man, he's like Wesker; he makes sitting on his ass look damned badass. Wish I was lazy enough to be able to pull that off.

Instead, I just shrugged. "Whatever you say, Darth Dickhead."

"Ladies! Enough." Shepard cut us off before it could boil down to 'Your mudda is a whore!'

"Look, he's telling the truth then? He was kitted out by Cerberus while he was still in cryo?"

"_...Essentially, yes. Several of the viable subjects were those who had older genome patterns, more malleable immune systems. By using them, there was a lesser chance of cybernetic rejection. From what I know, the scientists were still working on a way to ensure the Spartans' loyalty, without success._" He was still eyeballing me, while I did my best not to make obscene handgestures. Instead, I settled for making funny faces.

"Then that's all I needed to know. I'll update you once I've recruited the rest of my squad."

"_Very well, Shepard. And Blade. I don't care where your loyalties lie; if you wish to see humanity survive as a species, you will keep Shepard safe._"

...And then the transmission cut out, the holographic screen around us fading away. I felt the pressure on my lower back let off, and I turned to face the Commander...

"Darth Dickhead?" She asked, making her pistol disappear on her person, quirking an eyebrow with that coy little smirk of hers.

"Star Wars was a prevelant series in my time. By the way, Shepard..." I leaned a bit closer, looming over her...

"Please refrain from holding me at gunpoint in the future, for your own wellbeing. If you really wanted to get into my pants, you honestly don't have to go that far." She crossed her arms, shrugging, not looking intimidated in the least.

"I can't trust anyone, anymore. For months, Cerberus was trying to kill me, after I survived one of their failed 'experiments' on Akuze. Next thing you know, I died and they spent billions bringing me back. I sacrificed human lives saving the Council from a Reaper, and now they're saying it was just a Geth warship, the bastards. Then there's the Alliance, who is unwilling to help thousands of human colonists being abducted by the Collectors, due to bureacratic bullshit, and you... You said Aria sent you, but you're wearing Cerberus armor and claiming to have been frozen over a hundred years ago. If I was gullible enough to believe that without proof, I'd've been dead a long time ago."

I blinked. I have... Not a fucking clue as to what half of that was about. "...Fair enough."

Her expression changed, turning slightly sardonic and completely deadpan. "...You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

I beamed, happily stating, "Not in the least. I figured I'd just do what always worked before. Smile and nod, smile and nod."

Well, she smiled. Score! "Heh, remind me to do that next time someone gets Zaeed talking..."

"Sure, so long as the next time you want me naked, you just buy me a drink or three." She took the flirting well.

"Oh? You need to be drunk to get naked for me?" Damnit, that coy smirk of hers is too cute...

"...Well, I suppose a faster way would be if you just got naked first, but that would probably be even worse. 'Cuz, y'see, with alchohol, I have some semblance of control over my actions. You're just a bit more intoxicating..."(Cheesy, I know, but true. If she stripped naked, nine times out of ten, I'd find a way to tear off this armor and plow her to the nearest bulkhead. The other time I'd plow her right _through_ it)

Shepard outright laughed, shaking her head. "Were all men such big flirts two centuries ago?"

"That depends on the number of drinks consumed. But considering I was just getting shot at earlier, I'm a little less concerned about getting shot down romantically. Besides, I haven't gotten laid in 150 years. My balls are threatening to revolt."

"Well, I guess it sucks to be you."

In that instant, the door opened, and Jacob walked in, saluting. "Shepard. The doc's done what she could, but-"

And then, right behind him... Was Garrus, still wearing his armor, though it had several new dings. "Shepard."

She beamed, looking far less stressed than she had before. "Good to see you're alright, Garrus."

Jacob turned, looked, then saluted again and walked out. Huh. Anyway, the turian shook his head a bit, flexing the mandibles along the side of his face. "No one would give me a mirror. How bad is it?" Man... He looked like shit, considering the other turians I'd seen. Not that I'd tell him as much. Still, he looked alright, seeing as he just took a rocket to the side of his face.

Shepard shook her head, smiling. "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there, no one'll even notice."

"Heheh- Ah!- Ah, agh... Oh, don't make me laugh, my face is barely holding together as it is. You know, some women find facial scars attractive... Mind you, most of those women are krogan." He was shaking his head again, subtly glancing at me out of the corner of his eye...

Shepard noticed it, apparently. "Don't worry about him, he's not with Cerberus."

I remained silent, carefully listening.

Garrus did his equivalent of a raised eyebrow again, before saying, "If you say so. Frankly, I'm more worried about you, Shepard. I've heard bad things about Cerberus, as of late..."

She nodded, smiling. "That's why I'm glad you're here. If I'm walking into hell, I want people I trust at my side."

"You do realise that involves me walking into hell with you, right? Heh, just like old times..." He shook his head again, and I think he was... Smiling. "I'm fit for duty whenever you need me, Shepard. I'll see what I can do with the forward batteries."

I addressed Shepard as Garrus walked out. "Ditto here. If you need something killed, blown up or made into bite-sized pieces, just gimme a heads-up. And if you're waltzing right into hell... I'll take point. Just remember to keep your gun pointed at the guys who're shooting AT us, a'ight?"

"Fair enough. There's free space in the port and starboard viewing bays on Deck 3, and we'll be arriving at our next destination in eleven hours. Until then, you're free to look around, just don't break anything. By the way..."

She moved past me and towards the door, still smirking as she patted my-

My crotchplate as she went, that damned tease.

"You'd better get that taken care of, before you flood your suit."

...Motherfuck.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After she left, I shook my head, walking out of the room and turning left, entering the other door without bothering to look... I was a bit preoccupied.

Anyway, inside, I saw Jacob Taylor with his back to me, working on something at a table.

I had only just walked in, when he turned his head to glance at me.

"Hey, new guy. Since you're still standing, I'm guessing the Illusive Man didn't mark you out as a spy?"

I shrugged, moving over to the table. He was fiddling with a disassembled rifle. "Nah, TIM just confirmed what I already said. Say, uh... Does Shepard flirt with all the guys, or is it just me?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Heh, nice. But yeah... She does that. Not sure if she means anything by it, though."

"Lovely. Even two centuries in the future, they still haven't written an instruction manual on women. I'm just gonna love it here, I can already tell..."

He sent me a sympathetic smile, fitting together a few pieces of the field stripped Avenger in front of him. "I'm afraid women are the only thing man was never meant to understand... "

"Ain't that the truth... Whatcha doing, anyway? Cleaning?"

"Nothing that easy... I'm installing an upgraded eezo processor, decreasing field bleed, making the accelerator more efficient."

"...Okay, you lost me." He stared at me for a moment, before sighing.

"Right... No one explained what element zero was. Ohh-kay... You want the history, or a condensed version?"

"The basics. I wanna get a nap in before we make landfall." He nodded, looking back down at the rifle he was working on.

"Element zero, or eezo, is basically what all modern societies rely on these days. When you run an electric current through it, it creates a field that either deceases or increases mass. Thus, the mass effect. People found a million and one uses for it, everything from transportation and medical science, to firearms and communication. Even toothbrushes. You get everything so far?"

"Err, for the most part... Physics was never exactly my forte, but I get the gist of it. Decrease mass and even a little force will go a long way. Increase mass to make something collapse in on itself. So, all firearms are just miniature mass accelerator cannons, now... That about it?"

"Uh-huh. MAC guns have become the staple of all modern militaries A positive current increases mass, while a negative one deceases it. That's how ships have artificial gravity, and FTL, er, faster than light travel, is possible without causing extreme time dilation. After all that, you have biotics; people like me, who can create mass effect fields and control them through the use of implants. Human biotics are rare, roughly one in every fifty or so. All asari have biotics, so watch yourself if you piss one off." He listed off several different points as he put the rifle together, fitting the pieces with practiced ease.

"Gotcha. In my day, MAC's were just theoretical... Also featured in a few prominent video games, oddly enough.(HALO, ME... Just to name a few, ya?) Mind showing me what you know about modern weapons?" I asked, as he finished reassembling the rifle in his hands.

"Not a problem. Always good to see someone trying to learn the trade." Nodding, I removed my rifle from my back as he set the one he'd been working on into a rack and started showing me how everything worked and fit together...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Huh... To be honest, these weapons were remarkable simple, considering the tech built into them. Only a dozen parts total, when the M8 is completely disassembled.

The M3 is even simpler, breaking down into nine pieces. And believe it or not, these weapons were exceptionally reliable; I'd fired a good three hundred rounds through that rifle just today, and it needed no cleaning whatsoever, I just loaded new thermal clips. After going through everything, Jacob kitted me out with a new weapon; an M92 Mantis sniper rifle.

It looked like most rifles of this age; space-agey, kinda squared-off, and oddly coloured. The reciever was white, with gunmetal-grey barrels and black stock and grip. Single trigger guard and trigger, again with lights on the side of the reciever. The scope was real nice, with even more sophisticated tech than my Avenger's.

An excellant weapon; as far as I could tell, it had the output of a 13mm antitank rifle, with even less recoil. Only problem, was that it required a thermal clip for each shot, and the weapon itself held fourteen. After firing, you ejected the spent clip like a straight-pull bolt action. Pretty damned good, if you ask me. Now, the only problem with this, was that I could only carry one weapon on my back.

Jacob had a look at my armor, and inspected the protrusions...

"Huh... Not sure what these are. Looks like they're made to open, but they're too inconveniently placed to be storage... Hell, they look almost like..." He stopped, and I had to strain my neck to look back at him.

"Like what?"

"Thrusters... For zero-g maneuvering?" He was scratching his head, and alerted me to another possibility. "But there's a horizontal weapon magnet right here." He rapped his knuckles on a spot in the center of my back, just above my rear storage case.

"Huh..." I hefted the Mantis, pulled it behind my back unside-down, and held the reciever against my back for a second before it caught. Letting it go, I felt it collapse in on itself...

"Nice..." It was just small enough to fit there without sticking out around my flanks, nice and inconspicuous, just below my own rifle and... Thrusters, Jacob said they were. Huh. Haven't figured out how to use 'em, at least.

I shifted a bit, rolling my shoulders to see how obstructive everything was... Not in the least. Felt almost weightless, too. Hm. I removed it, replacing the weapon on the rack. Won't need it unless we're going someplace with long sightlines, anyway.

Now, I'm only missing one thing...

I turned and looked at Jacob. "Alright, now where can I get a decent knife around here?"

Of course, he laughed.

"Hah! A knife? No one's told you how to use your omni-tool yet, huh?"

"Nope. Figured out how to make an omni-blade, but that's about it." He blinked, giving me an odd look.

"Omni-blade? Those go back about as far as the omni-tool itself. Well... Here." He reached over the table and into a box of some sort, looking through it before picking up four small blocks of dark grey-coloured metal... They seemed to have small specs that reflected light in them. He set them down on the table in front of me, and pulled up his omni-tool.

"Most of these have a mini-fabricator in 'em, made for salvaging things on ships and battlefields. Everything from plastics, ceramics, and polymers, to light alloys. However... They're also good for shaping heavier metals, given time." As he spoke, a small blue field appeared, projected from the front of his omni-tool, enveloping the blocks of metal.

After a few moments, they seemed to... Merge, for lack of a better word, into one large block, roughly sixteen inches long, three inches wide, two inches thick. Man... That's sweet. "Guns these days use one of these blocks for ammunition, shaving off slugs the size of a grain of sand. Thermal clips are the only real limitation on the number of rounds a soldier can put downrange, these days."

The field dissipated, and the large block of metal clattered on the table, now a single piece. Huh...

"The function you're looking for is forge. Your omni will automatically scan for objects within range and pick up on the steel. Once it does that, try to shape it with hand movements." I nodded, bringing up my left arm..

Okay... It appeared once my arm was up, and I cycled through the menus... Functions, physical, forge...

Said field appeared, and enveloped the unforged knife. Hm. An omni-tool appeared around my right arm, the field connecting to it, as I shifted my hands as though caressing the steel...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

It took fifteen minutes, since I had to start over a couple of times, but I had it. A single piece of dark grey steel, half an inch thick, fifteen inches long; a tanto point, heavy serrations all down the spine, with a razor-sharp, nine-inch blade with an edge that went all the way to the hilt. After spending some time shaping and dehorning the hilt, it was perfect. There was half a block's worth of steel leftover

I deactivated my omni, picked it up and inspected it...

...Perfect. The edge was finer than a flea's testicles.

"Huh. Interesting design..." Jacob remarked, looking it over. "Careful, though. That steel was reinforced with carbon nanotubes and daimond monofilaments. Most molecular blades aren't that strong. You drop it, it's going a good six inches through anything short of mandalorian steel. We don't use it often for ammo, unless we're going up against heavy armor, 'cuz the stuff dulls the slug shaver and jams everything up like nothing else."

"Right... Now I just need to get myself a sheath." He held up a hand.

"Give me a few hours and I'll have one. Magnetic lock?" ...?

"If by that, you mean it locks onto metal via magnetics, sure." He gave me a funny look.

"...Just how do you carry a knife, anyway?" He asked, still looking at me oddly.

I tapped my left shoulder/collarbone area. "Right here. Easy and quick access, keeps it in my workspace, and doesn't get in the way of my rifle."

"Okaaay... If you've got an omni-blade, what do you carry a knife for, anyway?" He took the knife, looking it over a bit more closely.

"Can't pry with the omni, nor can you throw it. A knife is about the most useful universal tool there is, and needs little to no maintainence. Just sharpen and oil it every now and again, and it'll never fail you. Perfect as a survival tool, and for silently eliminating hostiles. By the way... What is the deadliest weapon within twenty-one feet?" I glanced at him, as he did the same.

"...I get the feeling you're about to say it's a knife." I smirked, though it was wasted.

"That I am. I can accurately throw a well-balanced knife up to forty feet without missing. Before they shoved me in that damned tube, I had a squad of leathernecks under my command; we were the baddest motherfuckers in the pacific theatre. Hostage rescue, ordinance disposal, armed intervention, maritime operations, force recon, deniable operations, political assassination, drug raids, amphibious assaults, unconventional warfare, counter-insurgency ops... You name it, we did it. I was only twenty-two, and they gave me a squad to train; one of my requirements was carrying a knife, and being able to hit a quarter with it at twenty feet."

Jacob blinked, parroting, "A quarter?"

I nodded, deadpanning, "Most of them could do it at thirty feet after a month of practice. Don't hate me just yet, I trained them to hit a flipped penny at a hundred yards."

...I think he was sweatdropping, or he would, if this was an anime. "That's... A little unreasonable." I shook my head.

"Not at all. I was able to hit the same dime seven times before it hit the ground at one-fifty. And I'd never ask someone to do something that I couldn't do myself."

Again, he looked... Well, mentally exhausted, awed, and somewhat embarassed for some reason. "You're always a little over-the-top, aren't you?"

I blinked and deadpanned, "What was your first clue?"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

We chatted for another few minutes, as he told me about Earth, and how civilization has spread to nearly every corner of the world, with massive skyscrapers towering overtop of other buildings within each city. Overpopulation was starting to become an issue, until colonization efforts began.

That didn't surprise me... Not one bit.

After that, he fully explained our mission; hunt down the collectors, stop them from targeting humans, eliminate the threat by any means necessary.

Anyway. I left the armory, poking around a little more before taking the elevator down to deck 3. It was interesting, to say the least. I stepped out of the elevator and took three steps forward, looking left, then right.

Port and starboard observation... I started starboard, heading for the door, when...

"Why are you out of uniform?" Someone asked, a good few feet away. I paid the voice no mind, considering how domineering it sounded. Feminine, haughty, and... Well, bitchy. As if they expected me to drop everything just to bow down to her... Someone who's used to getting her way. Eh. Not Shepard, so I'm not kow-towing to anyone. I'm not even apart of Cerberus...

I got no more than six more steps-

A hand clapped down on my left shoulder.

Once again... Everything went greyscale for an instant...

...

And the next, my vision faded back into clarity... I found myself atop a beautiful woman with jet-black hair and ivory skin, one hand crushing her neck in a deathgrip, keeping her pinned to the floor, the other holding an omni-blade and tensed to plunge it straight through her skull. I blinked, idly wondering,

'_How the fuck do I get myself into these messes..._'

She was feebly struggling against my left hand when I released her, standing back up, my omni fading out of existance. I walked away while she scrambled to her feet, trying to shake the most awful migraine from my head...

I walked through the automatic hatch, one hand cradling my head...

Ugh... Felt like I had an ice pick shoved through my skull... Just like when I blacked out on Omega...

But... It's even worse this time... Agh...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard watched on with a shocked expression, seeing the camera feed EDI displayed on the monitor...

Blade walked off the elevator, when Miranda mistakes him for one of the crewmen and confronts him. He was ignoring her until she placed a hand on him...

In an instant, those red lights appeared all over his armor again, and he spun, smacking her arm aside and delivering a punch to the gut that knocked the wind out of her lungs, before driving his knee into the exact same spot...

Less than a quarter of a second later, he had her neck in his left hand, and slammed her to the ground with a knee on her chest, forming an omni-blade in his right...

And that was where he stopped... And spoke.

"_Do not touch me..._" Even through the camera recording, his voice was... Different. It wasn't his voice. It sounded... Hollow. Mechanical, like a recording. But it wasn't the surveillance equipment; she had just finished watching his earlier interactions with Jacob, where he sounded completely normal. And yet...

Less than five minutes later, he became homicidal. After speaking, he remained entirely still for several seconds... After half a minute passed, the lights on his armor faded as he shifted again, glancing left and right, before staring back down at Miranda...

He immediately released her, standing back up and taking a step back... He was staring at his right arm, his omni-blade dissipating... His hand was shaking. But just as Miranda got to her feet, feeling her bruised neck, he briskly walked right past her... Into the starboard observation, cradling his head the entire time.

"Kelly?" Shepard asked, wanting to hear the psychologist's opinion.

"I don't know, Shepard. I don't have enough information on him to make an accurate diagnosis. He might have issues about being physically touched, but that was the first time he reacted violently... You had physical contact with him, as did Jacob, but he didn't react like that before. He held his head when he got back up; specifically, the right side. Maybe he's suffering from migraines?... EDI? Is there anything you can tell us?" She was frowning, worried creases in her forehead.

"There is little I am able to tell you. His armorsuit displayed a strange characteristic; the kinetic barrier emitters were overcharged as a massive surge of energy flowed through its entirety, and his vital signs fluxuated for several seconds. Breathing became shallow and quick; heartrate skyrocketed to more than triple his previous BPM; core temperature fluxuated several degrees. While he was remaining still, his vitals returned to normal functioning parameters, before he began moving again. However, at the same time, the charge to his suit also returned to normal. This is not a coincidence, I am sure; however I am unable to draw a decisive conclusion without more information, Shepard." The AI's voice was unsettling, but there was little else for Shepard to do at this point.

"Is he still in starboard observation?" She asked, looking to the AI's holographic avatar.

"Yes. He entered and sat down on the floor; he has not moved since."

Shepard nodded. "Alright. I'm going down and settling this now." She turned, moving towards the elevator, checking her sidearm.

"I would advise extreme caution, Shepard. From the evidence shown, he is highly skilled in personal combat at close range." EDI's hologram followed her, appearing at different colsoles she passed.

"Noted." She wasn't looking forward to this, since she'd seen him fight back on Omega... Not many people are brave or stupid enough to fight a krogan in hand-to-hand. And even fewer would go up against an armed aircraft...

Hell, the crazy son of a bitch took down that gunship with his damn omni-blade. He wasn't someone she wanted to fight up-close...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I sighed, sitting there resting an arm across my knee, watching the stars...

'_I'd kill for a smoke right about now..._'

The door behind me opened, and I heard someone walking in... One person, no heavy armor, judigng by the lack of a clattering sound that accompanied a person walking around in full-plate.

"Blade."

"Yes, Shepard?" I didn't move... My head was still killing me...

"What the hell was that, earlier?" She sounded irritated, and I get the feeling I know what about.

But I answered honestly. "...I do not know."

"...What?"

"I am sorry, but I do not know. My body moved of its own accord... The same thing happened on Omega. My vision changed, everything turning grayscale... After that, I blacked out and lost track of time. When I could see again, everything was different... And I had this splitting headache." I was rubbing a hand on my helmet... It was annoying that I couldn't feel my head, or place an ice pack on it. Ugh...

Anything to get this pain to stop...

I heard nothing for several seconds... Before I felt her hand touch my-

"No!"

...

Nothing... My vision remained normal... What...

I blinked several times, turning to look at the hand on my pauldron...

What...

"...Nothing happened this time, either."

I let out a breath, exceptionally relieved for some reason...

"Please don't do that..." I fully turned, trying to see her expression-

...And found a gunbarrel in my face. Oddly enough... This time there was no alarm.

"...Well, at least I know you were prepared. Though for some reason, that doesn't make me feel any better..."

I looked further up, where she was staring at me with intent... Trying to look into me...

"Take off your helmet."

"As you-" I stopped.

...

"...What is it?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"...Now that you mention it, I don't know how. Is there a latch you can see?" I turned my head back, waiting for her to answer.

"...Right here." She tapped a spot on the underside of it, to my left, right up against my neck. Right behind my jugular...

Slowly lifting my hand, I found it, pressing up and manipulating it...

A warning indicator showed up on my visor, stating,

_'DO YOU WISH TO UNSEAL HELMET?'_

"Yes."

'_ARE YOU SURE?_'

Man... That'd be annoying if not for the fact that it was probably there to make sure someone didn't tear off my helmet in vacuum.

"Yes." I said again, and then...

*KSSHHHR... KTCHKUH* I heard as much as felt it, unsealing and depressurising. Several latches around the bottom of the helmet unsealed, and I began pulling it off...

Once it was, I set it down, placing a cool hand on my forehead... Felt nice...

"Let me see." It was an order, but not one I minded...

I turned my head, looking at Shepard again.

Her expression remained neutral, carefully looking me over...

"...You're telling the truth?" She asked, looking straight into my eyes...

"Yes." I never flinched. She was testing me... Looking to see if I was lying.

"...Fine. But I never want this to happen again. Clear?" I nodded.

"I know. It is... Unsettling, not being able to control my actions. Shepard... I don't enjoy hurting people. I never have... But it's all I know. Is there any place on the ship where I would be less likely to interact with the crew?"

She got my meaning. "Yeah, engineering. Only Zaeed and the two engineers are down there, usually."

I nodded. "Thank you. What was that woman's name?"

"Miranda. She's currently in medical, with cracked ribs and a bruised trachea." I winced. Thaaat had to hurt.

"I owe her an apology for that..."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'd let her cool off for a few days if I were you... Chakwas had to sedate her to heep her from barging in here and trying to kill you."

"Ah. So she's the vindictive type. I'll keep my distance, then... And, ah..." This was kindof embarassing, actually...

"I don't suppose you could tell me how to actually remove this armor?"

...Her amused smirk was rather cute, too.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"The only good bureaucrat is one with a pistol at his head. Put it in his hand and it's good-bye to the Bill of Rights." -American author H. L. Mencken (1880-1956)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#4 _**First Day on the Job**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard asked for that datapad, to have EDI look into it for more information. I gave it to her, seeing as I also had a copy on my omni-tool to read. Maybe that AI will be able to decrypt it faster than Mordin...

After that, she left...

I sat there for another five minutes, thinking...

Sighing, I stood up, pulling my helmet back on. The moment it was in place, the latches automatically locked, and I felt as much as heard it pressurize...

*Kssshhrr...*

I took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, using that old technique for calming oneself...

My head was still hurting... But now it was a dull ache that throbbed with my heartbeat, rather than an agonizing tearing sensation. The pressure had slowly been easing up, the longer Shepard had been nearby... Strange...

I walked out of observation, heading for the elevator. I took it down another deck, to what was labelled engineering. Stepping out, I was looking right out into the cargo bay...

This ship was huge... The size of a large destroyer, at least. Hm. To the left, was port cargo... And right, was garbage disposal. Huh.

I was about to head left, when I found another door. Or, a pair of them, on either side of the elevator. Walking through the left one, I found myself in a stairwell... Hm.

Across from me, was another door. I took one step forward, and it automatically opened...

Inside, looked like an engineroom of the twenty-second century. Fancy, with consoles and pipes running under steel grates. Directly ahead, were a pair of crewmen in the standard BDU, both working a console.

"Yeah, mate?" The one on the left said, a guy with an irish accent. Or is that scottish? He had reddish-brown hair, so I'm thinking he's of scottish decent...

The other one, a girl, actually turned to see who had walked in. "Yes?" She had more of an american accent... Kinda mishmashed.

"Nothing. Just poking around, looking for a secluded place where I won't be pestered." She tilted her head, looking at my armor.

"Uh... Aren't combat personnel supposed to remain on deck two?"

I shook my head. "It's a long story, but I'm not with Cerberus. Name's Blade, and Cerberus kindly... Donated, the armor." I had a wry grin, but they couldn't see it. She glanced at the guy next to her, who also turned, and they shared a look.

...Before they both shrugged. "The hold's down the stairs next to ya, just don't break anything." The guy said, turning back to his console.

"Gotcha. Gimme a heads-up if you need an extra pair of hands." I turned and started down the stairs, just in time to hear the girl say,

"Uhh... Aren't you more worried about an armed stranger in the hold?"

"Nah, we've got a badass mercenary/bounty hunter less than two rooms away. Besides, Shepard wouldn't bring TOO many homicidal psychos onboard, right?"

"...Kenneth, you just HAD to bring Murphy's Law into play, didn't you?"

Heheh, I like her.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The hold was... Well, sparsely furnished. Steel grating for the floor, with pipes, tubes, and ductwork running under them. Dark, with a workbench set up and a military-style rack...

Yeah... This is like home to me. I looked at the underside of my wrist out of habit, looking for a watch...

...None. Well... That's gonna take some getting used to. Gotta figure at least two hours have passed... So I've got at least eight hours to rest, with an hour up and about before we arrive at whatever destination Shepard had us going to next. Lovely.

I sat down, pulling my rifle off my back and setting it under the rack, before lying down.

Y'know... This armor is pretty comfortable, even like this. I think it was designed to not be removed for long periods of time... Well, whoever came up with it got that part right, at least.

As I closed my eyes, I wondered...

'_What the hell did I do to deserve this, anyway..._'

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

...

"_Blade. Report to the conference room, we're almost there._" Shepard's voice called over loudspeaker, waking me up from my dreamless slumber...

...Agh...

Huh...? Oh... Right...

Blinking, I sat up, still a bit groggy.

I shook the haze from my head, swinging my legs around and standing up, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck. After stretching a bit, I picked up my rifle, storing it on my back as I jogged up the stairs.

Out the door, I got on the elevator just behind Zaeed, who was stifling a yawn.

"Oy."

"Hn."

...

And that's it. That's how soldiers greet each other when woken for an op.

Up the elevator we went...

I'm just glad we didn't have any bloody elevator music playing.

"Heard you bloodied the Cerberus bitch." He said, sounding disinterested as always.

I shrugged. "Not on purpose."

"Huh. Maybe she'll learn not to act like everyone's beneath her, now." I think he spoke professionally, seeing as he, too, was a soldier, and probably had to deal with haughty civillian contractors every now and again.

"...Not likely. I get the feeling she's a bit too... Hard-headed for that." I was about to say stubborn as an ass, but she's got a really good one, so I held my tongue. (What? You thought I didn't notice it? When she wears that damned catsuit? Get real)

"True enough..." The elevator stopped, and we both stepped out into the CIC, heading to the left, through the armory. Jacob wasn't there, so I assumed he was already in the conference room. Through the next door, then into the room...

Everyone else was already there; Mordin, Jacob, Garrus, Miranda,(Who was glaring at me and wearing a neckbrace. I tried not to snicker) and Shepard.(Wearing BDU's still, but her hair was dry and in place) She was standing at the other end of the table, hands braced against it. Just above the center of the table, was a projection of a hologram of a ship...

'Purgatory,' was written on the side of it. Huh... A ship called purgatory. Wow.

"Now that everyone's here... This is the prison ship Purgatory. We're here to pick up Jack, who is reported to be the most powerful human biotic in the galaxy. This is supposed to be a simple walk-in and pick-up, but overpreparation never hurts."

As I looked over the hologram for a moment, I heard Miranda speak. "The Warden's name is Kuril; he's a turian who subcontracts the Blue Suns as guards. I don't think he would be stupid enough to cross both you and Cerberus, Shepard."

I spoke up. "That may be, but people are prone to all kinds of stupidity when money's involved. Unless they're delivering Jack to this ship in a small shuttle with their own people on it, there is still a high possibility of this being a set-up. If we're in their territory, they'll likely have any number of us outnumbered and outgunned."

...I could feel the Cerberus woman glaring at without looking away from the hologram. The interior is large, with several seperate capsules... Long sightlines and narrow corridors. Not exactly ideal for any military operation...

"And what experience do you have, dealing with military operations?" Her voice was sharp, meant to rattle me, I suppose.

"Nearly a decade in the United States Marine Corps. I enlisted eight years before the second Korean War broke out, and was on active duty during the entire seven months it took for North Korea to surrender unconditionally. In the fourteen prisoner exchanges I was on overwatch for, the enemy set a trap for all but one of them. People are remarkably predictable; if we go in and they ask us to go unarmed, then it is garunteed to be a trap." I shrugged, looking through the different areas...

Outprocessing, was the one we were likely going to be headed to. Hmm...

"Your information is nearly two hundred years old. I think it's a little out-of-date by now..." Her scathing remarks would normally piss me off, but I felt... calm.

"Perhaps... But instinct has never let me down before. 'If you've no logic to go by, your gut will never lie.' Would any of you care to bet money on whether or not this is a trap?" I looked up, taking in the expressions of the gathered crew...

Of course, Shepard was neutral, observing all of us. She was thinking through everything and ignoring our mini-arguement, I think.

Miranda was pissed, as to be expected. But I think she was disagreeing with me just because she was angry. I mean, hell, there's no way a prison would want armed soldiers coming inside to get a single prisoner. No... They'd ship the prisoner out. Less chance of something going wrong. That set off alarm bells in my head, making me examine everything a bit more closely...

We recently pissed-off the Blue Suns besides, so they won't exactly be friendly to us, anyway.

Ahem. Garrus was neutral-looking, not taking part. Zaeed was nodding, also thinking it strange. Mordin? No clue, can't read salarian expressions.

Jacob agreed with me, oddly enough. "He's got a point, Miranda. It's a lot more risky for them to have us go in, than to send Jack out in a pod. I say we play this carefully, 'cuz the last thing we need is to have to fight through a prison."

Shepard finally spoke. "I agree. My gut tells me this is a set-up, so we'll go in heavy. Since the ship has long sightlines and cluttered hallways, I want Garrus, Jacob, Zaeed, and Blade with me. Garrus, you'll be handling long-range and any system-cracking. Jacob, keep any hostiles off of Garrus, and use biotics to force anyone in cover out into the open. Zaeed, you're on rear security. Keep anyone from sneaking up on us, and bring heavy weapons in case we need to blast our way out. Blade, I want you on point; take care of these narrow shafts and stop any trouble before it starts."

The four of us she picked out nodded our consent, and she finished up.

"We'll be there in forty minutes. Until then, kit up and get ready to move. Dismissed."

We all dispersed, walking out and heading in the two different directions. I was already running scenarios in my head, guesstimating how many people must be on that ship. One guard per ten prisoners, so...

I dunno... At least 500. Not good. Jacob caught up with me just before I walked out of the armory.

"Hey, blade." I turned, as he handed me something. "Here. Took a little longer than I thought it would, but I got that sheath made."

I took it, looking the object over...

It was my knife; the hilt was sticking out of a rectangular box-like object, made of black metal. The edges were rounded , and the one side of it had a dull red light...

I set the lighted side to a specific place on my pauldron, right where I wanted the knife, and there was a *Whrr... Ktchk* Sound, and it stayed in place. I drew the knife, weighing it in my hand...

I flipped it underhand, over, reverse, then tossed it... Carefully catching it by the blade, perfectly positioned to be thrown.

Flipping it again, I sheathed it, looking back at Jacob, who looked impressed.

"Nice. Isn't easy to maintain tacitility when wearing full armor." I shrugged.

"Thanks. When they designed this suit, they did their job well. Feels more comfortable than the old kevlar I wore in the Corps."

"Weight dispersal. Took 'em a few decades, but they perfected it after awhile. That sheath will automatically laser sharpen that knife whenever you sheath it. By the way... What happened between you and Miranda?"

I couldn't tell what he was thinking... He was pretty good at hiding his emotions, for a soldier.

"...Hard to describe. I blacked out, the same way I did on Omega. When I woke up again... She was on the ground and I'd nearly killed her. Just, ah, keep your distance, yeah? I'm not sure what causes it, and I don't want a repeat of that episode."

He wasn't furious, at least. "You blacked out?"

"Yeah... My vision went grayscale, and then... It's like I blinked, and everything around me changed without my noticing, before the color fades back in. Right after, I had this splitting headache, like someone shoved an ice pick through my skull. Gonna get the doc's opinion once we're back, but until then... I'm just gonna keep my distance from people and hope I don't have space-cancer or something."

He crossed his arms, looking thoughtful... And worried. "It might be a side-effect of whatever Cerberus did to you, or something to do with the armor, if nothing else."

"Dunno. Wierdest thing... It didn't happen around Shepard. Not sure if that's significant or not, but I'll worry about whether or not I'm psychotic later. No sense wasting time worrying when there's nothing to do for it." I shrugged again, heading out the door, calling back,

"Thanks, mate. I'll see you on the shuttle."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Okay...

Got several things done.

Went to the bathroom, had some trouble, but got that out of the way. Dropped into the mess hall on deck 3 and met the cook, Sergeant Gardner. Him, I liked. He was just like a lotta the older Marines I've worked with, and even looked the part.

...Though I think he was a little perplexed when I took my plate with me, as I went down the elevator into the hold. It's probably better if I avoid people until I figure out what the hell sets off these blackouts...

Good thing, too, 'cuz I mighta strangled him. Ugh... Food was awful, even considering military standards. I mean come on, MRE's were pretty good... But this shit?

Bleeugh...

Got it down my neck, but it was by no means enjoyable. I was ticking off the minutes in my head, and pulling my helmet back on when I head footsteps on the stairs...

"Blade. We're about to dock with Purgatory..." It was the female engineer. I didn't catch her name...

I stood, double-checking my gear. Thermal clips, full. Extra medigel, got it. Rifle, good to go. Sidearms, double-check. Don't need the Mantis, we've got Garrus. Armor's sealed, barriers charged. I'm good to go.

Moving towards the stairs, "Gotcha. Thanks," I said, pulling my rifle from my back, checking it over one last time as I walked.

"Yeah..."

In my habitual preparations, I almost missed her tone of voice. Almost.

I looked up, right into her eyes. "Hm?"

She looked... Uncomfortable. "You're not gonna go psycho on me or Ken, right?"

I blinked. Lovely... Already got a reputation as a violent psychopath. Fucking lovely.

"Not as long as you both keep your distance. What was your name, miss?" I answered honestly, trying to be polite, at least. She didn't set off my internal bullshit-detectors, so I'll make an effort not to rub her wrong, y'know?

"Gabriella, but I go by Gabby."

"Very well, Gabby. What happened with Miranda was... Unintentional. I'm still unsure of what caused it, so keep your distance. That is all I ask." Well, that should set things straight. Or at least prevent them from unknowingly setting off one of those blackouts... I hope.

I moved past her, ensuring to keep a healthy distance between us, and got up the stairs and out the door. In the elevator, it went up one floor, and Garrus stepped on. I greeted him, inclining my head.

"Garrus. Your injuries feeling better?" The door closed as he turned, both of us facing it.

"For the most part. The only problem is that they itch... Doctor Chakwas said it'll be at least a week before we get a medicinal salve that works for turians."

"That sucks. A dab of medigel might help a little, if you don't mind the numbed jaws." Medigel, as I'd looked into, is a general cure-all for most battlefield injuries. Bandage, painkiller, skingraft and antiseptic, all mixed into one waterproof, airtight package. Good stuff.

He shook his head. "Already tried it. Just got squish-skin along with itchiness."

"Ouch. I feel for you, man. Had a broken collarbone, once... Itched like hell for a month. Other than that, sympathy is about all I can offer."

"Hah! The doc said the same thing..." The elevator stopped, and we both stepped out, briskly walking towards the airlock.

Shepard, Zaeed and Jacob were already there, in full gear.

Joker called to us from the cockpit, "Docking in five!"

Shepard nodded, just as Garrus and I stacked up in the squad.

"Electronic countermeasures in place, Shepard. Shielding has been charged, and weapons armed; if Warden Kuril attempts confrontation using Purgatory's defences, we are prepared." EDI announced, her synthesized voice sounding from everywhere once again...

Shepard nodded, and gave a little speech. "We go in, get Jack, and get out. I'm expecting this to be a trap, but if a fight can be avoided, I would prefer not to get shot at today."

Nods all around, until Garrus piped up with, "But Shepard, it isn't a real mission if we aren't getting shot at..."

...For some reason, the little aftereffect of his turian voice just made the sarcasm even funnier. the entire squad enjoyed a good chuckle, before Zaeed threw in, "He's got a point, Shepard. When's the last time you went on a mission where you WEREN'T getting shot at?"

"...As your Commander, I am vetoing that question."

...

"Anyone else suddenly feel a nasty hernia coming on?" I suggested, looking to the others.

"Oh, ah, ow, yeah... Real bad one, too... Don't think I can make it..." Zaeed doubled over, obviously faking while making a doubly large ham of himself.

Garrus sucked in a hissed breath, holding his side. "Ahh... The pain..."

Jacob got in on it, too. "Agh.. Commander... Go on without us..."

While we were hamming it up, I heard Joker snickering in his seat, while Shepard was shaking her head with an amused smirk.

"You would make little old me go in there all alone, surrounded by rapists and murderers and arsonists?" She sounded small and innocent and vulnerable... With those great big ole puppy-dog eyes filled with crocodile tears.

...And like that, we were all backpedaling, coughing awkwardly, and reassuring her that we were just joking...

Then she turned with a smirk, saying to herself, "I still got it."

"...Why do I get the feeling she just played us all for fools?" I asked, blinking.

"That'd be because she did." Garrus replied, shaking his head with what I think was a wry smile.

"You get used to it. She's like those cute little city rascals... The big-eyed ones that steal your credit chit the moment you turn around." Zaeed grunted, once again indifferent.

"I did grow up on Earth..." Shepard idly remarked, just as Zaeed's eyes bugged out.(Including his fake right one; it was a bionic eye, I do believe. He was right-handed, after all)

"You... You did? That... THAT WAS YOU ALL THOSE YEARS AGO!" His scarred face looked absolutely comical, his completely shocked and flabberghasted expression making the rest of us chuckle.

"It was?" She responded, innocently looking over her soulder.

"YES! The pint-sized little girl at the hotdog stand! I'd just given the clerk my chit when my truck started rolling downhill!"

Shepard blinked, replying, "Oh. That was you? Huh. Think I owe you a few credits, then."

His jaw dropped. "A few? Try fifteen hundred!"

She smiled, beaming, looking twice as cute as she probably did back then. "Heheh, I ate well for three months on that... And you look just as funny now as you did back then."

...The veteran soldier was completely speechless, and that was a first for him, I'm willing to bet.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After another few moments, the floor beneath us rumbled...

"Docking successful. Airlock, connected. Pressurizing..." EDI droned, and I'm pretty sure she was doing that on purpose, since it probably bored the AI, too. Anyway, she eventually completed the process, and the airlock hatch opened. The five of us stepped through, as I tapped my visor.

The hatch behind us shut and locked, just as the one in front of us opened...

Inside we went, myself moving ahead of the others, carefully eyeing left and right...

Left, clear. Right side, short flight of stairs, several guards with Blue Suns armor and automatic rifles... One door just behind them. Seeing as I didn't get hit with a hail of gunfire, the others moved up, with Shepard just behind me and to my right.

Since I was the only one carrying my weapon, I suppose I marked myself out as Shepard's bodyguard... No big surprise, since I effectively was, being on point. It's the most dangerous position, requiring the best reaction time and speed; you also have to be willing to take a bullet for the people behind you.

We got up closer, before one of the guards, a turian, said, "Welcome to Purgatory, Shepard. You package is being prepped, and awaiting payment. You'll need to relinquish any weapons for the duration of your visit."

...I subtly eyed the guards, looking for their reactions...

Most of them looked bored, truth be told, but that one turian who spoke... He was anxious, shifting his weight constantly, expecting a fight.

"I'm keeping my gun." Shepard responded, calmly yet firmly. Heh, I get the feeling the guard was groaning in his helmet, worried about whether or not he'd be getting shot or fired.

...Hm. Around here, that probably means about the same thing.

Just then, before things could escalate, the door behind the guards opened, and out stepped an aged, brown-scaled turian wearing Blue Suns armor. The Warden.

"All of you, stand down. Shepard, you must understand. This is a maximum security prison, housing the most dangerous criminals in the known galaxy. Your weapons will be returned to you on your way out."

"I'm not giving up my gun. Period."

...They stared each other down for several seconds, before he blinked. "...Very well. This facility is more than secure enough to handle five armed guests. Come." He turned, walking through the door...

As we walked up, I kept my rifle in-hand, glancing at Shepard...

She caught it, and gave a subtle nod. I noticed the others take on a resigned look, as they accepted the fact that they were willingly walking into a trap. Well, they were well-disciplined, at least.

As we followed Kuril, he droned on about the facility, how many prisoners it held, and the systems it employed to... Pacify, the local populace.

He went on and on, stopping a few times for questions, before leaving us on our own, telling us to head to outprocessing. The moment he was gone and out of earshot...

"Told you so. Y'all wanna pay up now, or when we get back to the ship?" I asked, voice laced with sarcasm.

"Once we're back on the Normandy. Until then, just focus on getting out alive." Shepard replied, without missing a beat.

I shook my head with a wry smirk. "Whatever you say, boss. Just stay behind me and try not to get hit."

...I dunno what any of them thought of that statement, seeing as I was ahead of them.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Down another corridor, past some guards beating the living shit out of a prisoner, and then through a door that had 'OUTPROCESSING' written on the wall right next to it, in great big block letters. English, oddly enough.

As we passed the guards, I snarked, "Give it just a minute, and candy'll start flying out of 'im..." Shepard roller her eyes and had a little 'chat' with those guards, whereas Jacob and Zaeed both chuckled.

"...Candy?" Garrus asked, perplexed.

"A pinata. It's an old human custom in certain cultures; you make a brightly coloured object out of paper mache, fill it with candy, and hang it from a high position. Children are blindfolded, and then they beat it with sticks until they break it open, and the candy spills out. A very violent children's birthday party tradition." I explained, and he Aha'd.

"Ah. Another violent human custom. Gotcha." After that, Shepard rejoined us, and we went through that door, into a large, mostly open room, with several long desks spread throughout... And a single guy manning a console right be the door.

"Outprocessing's just through that door over there," He said, pointing to said door on the other end of the room.

Over there we went, and when we got within ten feet... I heard that little bastard turn tail and run the hell out, fast.(Unsurprising. He didn't want to be within ten miles of Shepard when Kuril betrays her)

"...Eyes up."

"I know." Shepard replied, cracking her knuckles.

The outprocessing door opened...

...Inside it, was an empty cell.

"_I'm sorry Shepard, but you're more valuable to me as a prisoner, than a customer. Drop your weapons and procede into this open cell; you will not be harmed._" The Warden's voice came over loudspeaker, some kind of PA system.

Sighing dramatically, "Why, why, oh honourable Warden, you've broken my virgin heart..." I hammed, rolling my eyes as I flicked off my rifle's safety. I heard several of the others chuckling, as weapons were drawn.

Shepard was smirking as she turned and looked up at the camera...

Then drew her gun in a flash, putting a bullet through the lens.

"There's your answer, Warden. Come'n get me!"

"_Activate systems!_"

...And like that, we were back in the shit.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Move!" She shouted, and I did just that, hauling ass across the room to the door we'd come through, slamming my back against the wall right next to it...

Breathe in, breathe out...

Check motion sensor.

Nine targets...

All hostile.

I flipped my gun, aiming the barrel around the corner, my off hand bracing the stock to keep it steady.

***Batatatatatatatatataaaat...!***

I hosed 'em down, holding the trigger till the gun overheated. Pulling it back, I slapped the clip eject, rounding the corner in the same motion...

Seven bodies...

Holy-!

I lashed out, instinctively kicking a massive steel bulldog-like robot, sending it flying back into another one. They both wiped out, and I brought my rifle to my shoulder, dumping a good ten rounds in each one. 20/560 left in my rifle...

Check left, then right. Clear for now. I dropped to a knee, waving the others up. A clap on my shoulder came a moment later, and I was on my feet, moving up.

Ten feet, turn left... Another corridor-

"Hostiles! Count of six!" I called, moving around the nearby short support, rifle at the ready...

I strafed right, lining up my sights on the first poor, dumb bastard. Turian, full armor, carrying a shotgun... He was just aiming when I pulled the trigger, sending a slug through his faceplate. I snapped my sights onto the next target, and the next...

Three more down, and Shepard got the last two.

"Move up, and keep it tight. Don't be reckless, they've got us outnumbered here."

I nodded, figuring that was intended for me... Well, I go by my own, special breed of SAS...

Speed, aggression, surprise. Hit 'em hard, hit 'em fast, and scare 'em shitless. The key to going unharmed as a point man is to be aggressive, to push the limit, without letting yourself be negligent or careless. It's a fine line to walk...

Ejecting another spent clip, we stacked up on another door, waiting for Shepard's signal.

She looked us all over, and gave us a thumbs-up. I was in front on right; her leading on left. I held up a hand;

5.

4.

3.

2.

1...

Boom.

***BOWALOOMSH!***

The charge Zaeed set detonated, blasting the door wide open as we all rushed inside...

One guy; technician, nonhos-

"Gun!"

He had a pistol in his hand as he turned, raising it...

***POWFHL!***

...

*...Thumpk.*

"...Well, that was anticlimactic," Garrus snarked, looking around the room. It was an observation deck... One door to the left, but massive windows and a single console right in front of us.

"Garrus." Shepard was at the console, looking it over. The turian sniper joined her, looking it over...

The rest of us were on overwatch, looking around for any hostiles, traps or otherwise dangerous/pointy objects. Gotta babyproof it for the Commander, y'know?

"...There's no other way I'm seeing, Shepard. It's either all or none." I heard the turian quietly say, as they held a hushed conversation.

"Damnit... Well, they decided to turn this into a fiasco, so fuck 'em... Do it." Shepard responded, no longer quiet.

"Already on it..." There was a massive rumbling through the floor beneath our feet...

"Done."

"...Just what did you do, Garrus?" I asked, looking outwards as Jacob worked on hacking the other door.

"I've just released every single prisoner on this tin can... Including Jack."

As he spoke, there was a commotion just outside the big-ass windows...

I didn't get to see it, but whatever it was, made Shepard's jaw drop.

"_That's_ Jack?... What the hell?"

A deeper rumbling sound shook the station...

"Fuck... Damnit! Come on, they're going to tear her apart!" She turned, running for the door Jacob was working on at a dead sprint.

He just finished working on it when she ran through, the rest of us hauling ass to catch up to her.

"Agh, we just had to wind up with a CO that runs everyday..." I heard Zaeed huffing and puffing behind me, with Garrus grumbling along the same lines.

"Huuh... Oogh... Turians... Not made... For distance running..."

I wasn't too badly bothered, nor was Jacob. Not surprising, really. He didn't look like the type to skip out on PT.

"Come on! I didn't come all this way to walk out of here empty-handed!" Shepard shouted, hopping over a-

...A completely fucking _destroyed_ heavy mech. Damn.

"I think I'd just settle for walking out of here..." I drily remarked, worried that they posted not one, not two, but FOUR heavies to guard one person... Someone who was in cryo, even. Damn...

And I thought **I **rated as a badass...

Shaking my head, we busted through another room, then a final door, into-

Whoa... Into one of the main housing areas, now filled with rioting prisoners and armed guards, quite a few of which were rather _irate._

"So... Who was it, that suggested we release ALL the prisoners?" Jacob asked, looking a little annoyed.

"It's a good distraction. None of them are focused on us, so just shoot the ones that try to kill us." Shepard mediated,

"...Which is just about everyone, these days." The turian sniped,(Good pun there, huh?) shaking his head.

Well, if nothing else, we were one big, happy, snarky family. Dysfunctional, but still. Like a family...

So, like a family, we killed out way across the room.

Good times, good times...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Heavy mech up high!" Jacob shouted, back against a foldout wall.

"I see it! Zaeed!" Shepard was pinned behind four hostiles, suppressed by hails of gunfire.

"No go, Shepard!" Zaeed was maybe ten feet away, in the same situation.

"Uh, a little help here!" Garrus was, of course, under fire from the mech, since those things just love him so much... The cover he was behind was starting to look a little Swiss-made, right about now.

"Damnit! Blade, where you at?!" Me? Well, of course, I was the dumbass well ahead of them, waiting for my shields to fully charge after soaking up a good five or six rounds from that mech.

The moment they hit full charge...

Breathe in...

...Breathe out.

I rolled over my cover, running for that mech at full speed. Only one or two of the guards were even shooting at me...

Shields will hold. Armor's good to go.

Twenty feet...

Fifteen...

The mech noticed me, and turned, bringing its guns to bear.

I juked right, then double-left, rolling along the hard floor, unflinching as bullets tore through the steel just behind me. As I had first estimated... The targeting systems on these have a time-delay of about .04 seconds...

Good enough.

Hop, roll, juke back the other direction, duck, roll forward, get low...

They can't keep up with rapid movements at close range... And they're slow-moving. If you're quick and sure, you can avoid its line of fire.

Seven feet...!

Good enough.

I dropped and rolled, jumping from the moment I was in a crouched stance, several slugs skimming just past me, my shields draining to half...

Through the air I went, until landing on the mech, wrapping my left arm around its head as I jammed my rifle against its face-screen.

"Suck this!" ...And I jerked the trigger, hosing the thing down with forty slugs, before rapping the clip ejector against my armor, and repeating the process.

The mech was unable to target me, and further unable to hit me. They never made this thing with riot control in mind... It's standard military, made for fighting a trained enemy.

Not a crazy sumbitch like myself.

After three clips' worth, the mech gave a jolt, before shutting down...

I felt an impact throughout my body, as the blue bar in my visor fully depleted...

'_Shields down!_'

I kicked off of the metal monster, rolling as I hit the ground, sprinting to the nearest cover...

*PIOWNG...* One hit, felt like someone punched me in the side with brass knuckles, hard...

*PEWNG!* Two hits, this one clocked the upper side of my helmet, and I felt the beginnings of a nasty headache...

*TIOWNG!* A third hit rocked my body, but no pain... Impacted one of the thrusters on my back.

I leaned back, throwing myself to the ground in a slide, turning and rolling as I came to the nearest fold-out cover piece.

I checked myself over...

No blood, no serious pain. Nothing broken, no issues. All systems copacetic.

Hm?

What the?

...Another display appeared in my visor, this one of a small figure...

...Me... It was the armor, showing which parts were hit. Helmet, upper right-side. No damage, round deflected off.

Right flank, round shattered upon impact. Good thing, too, 'cuz a bullet there woulda hurt like a motherfucker.

Backplate, upper right shoulderblade, right-side thruster; round shattered, no damage, functionality unchanged.

I'm good to go.

Taking a breath, I waited the agonising nine more seconds...

_*Whrr...*_

That blue field appeared, as the bar in my visor began filling back up. I could still hear, and feel, bullets impacting the steel against my back. I flipped my rifle up and over my shoulder, blindly aiming up at the buards on the catwalk above us.

Just then...

Another screen appeared, showing...

I blinked.

It showed the catwalk, with three guards, two firing, one in cover. Along with a targeting reticle, hmm...

Aha. My visor was connected to the riflescope, showing me what it was aimed at.

Oh, that is just awesome...

Bracing the stock, I shifted it, bringing the dot over the nearest enemy out of cover...

And I fired, putting a three-count burst in his chest. Strange that these guards don't have shields... Then again, they're Blue Suns,(Ie; cheap) and not expecting gunfights. He staggared back, one hand clutching his breast, and I adjusted, putting a last round in his throat. He fell over, out of sight.

I shifted my aim, moving to the next one...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

It took a few more moments, before the room was clear.

"Room clear! Move up!" I shouted back, scanning for more targets...

Motion sensor showed the four of them moving from cover to cover, until right up on me. Shepard clapped my shoulder and I was up, moving towards the exit.

Once up on it, we found some poor bastard that'd been swarmed by prisoners...

Hmph. For what they were doing, they deserved it.

"Poor bastard..." Zaeed muttered, shaking his head.

I slammed the doorswitch, stepping through as it opened, sweeping my gun up, then left, moving inside...

"Clear." I moved further up; it was a short, winding hallway. I had my back against the wall, sidling up to the corner... Shepard and Jacob were close, covering. I went around, still searching.

...Nothing. Just another door.

But there was a medigel dispenser on the wall.

"If anyone needs first aid, now's the time." I said, keeping my gun trained on the door.

"I'm good." Zaeed.

"Good to go." Garrus.

"No problems, here." Jacob.

Shepard was silent as she moved past me, getting on the other side of the door...

I got on the side opposite her, as the others stacked on me.

She gave a count of five...Four... Three... Two... One...

"Go!"

She did the same as I did earlier, slamming the button as I rushed in, focusing on targets straight ahead of me...

Close area, clear. Far side, eleven hostiles-

Scratch that, eight. Three eliminated by the Warden; he was up high, on some platform in the corner of the room. Three more below us, and six on the far left. In that instant, Shepard took charge.

"Blade with me, straight ahead! You three, clear the left side!" I nodded, making a mad dash straight ahead, across a short bridge, right at a guard who was standing there looking stupid as I clotheslined him, turning and letting myself fall...

Landing an elbowdrop that cracked his helmet, spraying dark indigo blood all over the floor. I rolled in that instant, slamming my body against a large metal crate. As I shifted into a sitting pose, still keeping my head below the crate, I saw Shepard hauling ass after me, maybe ten feet behind.

Tracers were following her, stitching the walls just behind, coming closer and closer... Her shields were flashing, taking hits!

I turned in place, bringing my rifle to bear...

Seven targets, plus Kuril. He was... Protected by some big-ass dome shield, bright blue in color. I ignored him, putting rounds on the four guys that were standing in the open...

First one, down. Second, dropped.

I put a burst in the third guy's leg, ejecting a clip as I did, snapping my sights on the fourth guy as the last started to fall.

Tapping the trigger sent a slug through the last guy's trigger finger. He even dropped his rifle, screaming, pulling back behind... Some kind of large, standing steel coverplate. Huh. Dunno why they had those things set up in here, but whatever. Another guard popped out, and-

And caught a bullet before I could shoot him. I dropped back down behind cover, turning to look at Shepard, who was sitting next to me, breathing heavy.

"You alright, boss?" She shook her head, face pale as she grit her teeth.

She set her rifle down, omni-tool appearing over her left arm. She pressed something on it once, and held it against her midrift...

Now I see... There was a little round hole in her armor right there, with blood seeping out.

...I take it that's what's got her beathing heavy.

"Went between the plates... Shredder round. Not enough medigel in the suit's auto-dispenser." She grit out, clipped tones betraying how much pain she was in.

I shifted over, getting a closer look...

It was a lot of blood... Too much for such a small injury.

"You good, or do I bring one of the others over?" I asked, peeking up over cover again for a quick glance...

Four guys, hiding behind cover... The three down below were done, and there were three more on the far side.

"I'll be fine, just keep 'em off me for a few!" She bit out, and I nodded. Gotta end this quick.

I stood, vaulting over the crate, sliding to a stop on the opposite side of the cover finger-boy was behind.

I took a breath, then spun around it, slamming the butt of my rifle into the guy's helmet, turning it into a space-age vise.(His head was between his helmet, and the helmet was between me and the coverpiece)

Relishing the scrunching-squish sound, I ignored the few rounds that scraped my shields, and rushed the other three bastards.

One, was too close. I knocked his shotgun aside, drawing my knife in my off hand...

Pigstick 'em. I jammed it in, between his collar and helmet, tearing out his throat in a single motion. It took him a moment to realise how screwed he was, as I viciously kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling, clawing at his throat.

On to the next one...

He was further back, closer to the platform, next to his partner. They were both standing there gaping, staring at me with unadulterated looks of fear...

...I rather enjoyed that. Heheh, I still got it...

Moooving on, I dashed from cover to cover, keeping an eye on my shield indicator...

Mostly full, enough to handle their small arms.

Alright... Run, jump, juke, dodge, roll...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Nice thing about this armor, is that it doesn't hinder my movement in the least. Most armors are heavy and cumbersome, especially heavy armor. Shepard's is an exception, oddly enough. Very flexible, yet very strong. She'd actually taken several hits, just one of them slipped between the plates. Unlucky.

Anyway. I was able to avoid several shots by moving low and fast, and it's astounding how slow these Blue Suns punks are... In my day, they'd be considered real amateurs, not even worthy of a rifle. Today, they're bare-minimum passed as prison guards. I guess they're here because they suck, or they pissed someone off.

Oh, well, too bad.

First one caught my knife with his face, the second was too busy staring at said knife to react when I grabbed him and snapped his neck.

Heheh.

After retrieving my knife and looking over to the other three, I saw they'd cleared out the far side.

"Room clear... Except for this asshole." I hooked a thumb at the Warden, who was shouting obscenities behind that shield.

"So... How do we crack the egg?" I asked, when Garrus looked around.

"Where's Shepard?" Oh. Right.

I jogged over to that crate, leaning down and looking. She was still cussing, smoothing out a large glob of medigel over her armor.

"You okay, Shepard?" She looked up.

"Yeah, the painkiller's kicking in. Gimme a hand." I pulled her up,(Her right arm, since the left side was probably a little tender)

She fought with me for a second when I pulled her arm over my shoulder, but stopped when I fully lifted her in a bridal carry.(That'll learn her. I get the feeling she's going to inflict severe bodily harm upon me later, but the look on her face was worth it)

...Her cheeks matched the stripe down her right arm.

After fumbling for a few moments, I hefted her rifle and left mine on my back, then made my way to the others, setting Shepard on her feet behind a coverpiece.

...The other three were wearing amused smirks, trying not to snicker.

"Here comes the blushing bride..." Garrus remarked, shaking his head with a turian smirk.

"Stow it, Vakarian..." She growled, still glaring at me.

"Whatsamatter, Shepard? He's just looking out for his wounded CO..." Zaeed said, sniggering to himself.

...Her eye twitched. She then looked at Jacob expectantly...

He gave her a blank stare. "What? Surely you'd think me above making such petty insinuations..."

She took on a relieved expression...

"...Mrs Blade." Until he finished his statement, making her groan.

"Great... Now everyone's a comedian."

"Ah, don't worry, Shepard. We'll keep this between the four us." Garrus started, beaming.

...The four of us shared a look, while Shepard watched on with growing apprehension.

"...And Joker." We all finished, grinning.

"Oh, come on!"

After a few more moments of teasing, we settled back down and got to work on the problem...

"We've got maybe ten minutes before this tin can blows. Before that, though... Let's take care of the 'honourable' Warden..." Garrus suggested, eyeing one of the wierd glowing pylons that had popped up earlier.

"Agreed. Let's just get this over with before that happens..." Shepard was nodding, looking back and forth between the pylons the Kuril's shield... "Garrus?"

The turian nodded, calmly strolling towards the nearest one.

"Give me just a minute..."

**Two minutes later...**

"Alright, we're good. Three. Two. One."

***BA-BA-BALOOMSH!***

Garrus detonated the three pylons, and the shield protecting Kuril vanished...

I grinned, and took a running start.

"Your ass is mine now, bitch!" Giving a great leap, I flew fifteen feet through the air, arm extended...

...Not quite high enough. However...

In that instant I realised that, even with the armor, I couldn't jump high enough, something happened. My entire body gave a jolt in midair, and I felt myself being pulled up by my chest...

*Fuhl... Woooooooorrsht!*

Up another fifteen feet, well above the Warden's head, as he stared up at me, gaping, and I dropped down right on top of him.

*Thumpk-Whump-Clunk!*

"Now it's YOUR turn to bend over!" Fist up, clench...

*Wuh-Shing!* Omni-blade formed...

...And as I brought it down, I wasn't thinking of eliminating an enemy...

The only thought that echoed through my mind...

'_Shepard does NOT belong to you..._'

...I don't know how many times I stabbed him before I took his head in my hand, and lifted his barely-breathing corpse into the air, holding it over the edge of the platform, crossing my right arm under my left...

*Wuh-Shing-**Ktchkshk!***

...And rended his head from his shoulders, tossing the ugly visage aside, no longer concerned.

...Even then... I couldn't understand the surge of anger I felt, I just knew that I wanted him dead...

By my hand.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After that, we all hauled ass out the nearest exit, making our way to the airlock our ship was docked at. The trip was relatively easy, considering.

Anyway. We got to the door we'd first gone through...

There was a bulkhead shutter closing fast, and I'd just seen a thin figure sliding under it, not ten feet away.

Damnit...

Can't make that distance...

I was a good fifteen feet ahead of the others, too, but even then...

'_No go...!_'

My vision started to shift again... Going greyscale...

I could feel myself moving, faster and faster, slamming into the shutter full-force, instantaneously reaching for the bottom, catching it by fingertips...

For once... I could still move on my own with this grey vision...

And I felt...

**Awesome.**

As though I could bench-press the Normandy, even. I grabbed the bottom lip of the shutter with my other hand, getting a better grip.

And I began to lift... Using my legs, keeping my back straight out of habit.

But the strangest thing... I felt no resistance. No strain, no burning... I remember working out, exercising my muscles until they burned like molten metal...

But I felt none of that, only the slow give of the steel as I pulled, forcing it up, inch-by-inch.

It was up to my chest when the others caught up with me.

"Blade!" Shepard shouted, sounding... Worried, for some reason. I don't know why...

'Cuz I feel great!

"**Get going**!" I called back, oddly confused...

My voice... It was different...

I don't sound like that... And yet... I heard it, sounding... Emotionless, with inflection. As though spoken by an automated recording with too much bass...

"Go!" She shouted again, and I felt the four of them brushing past; first Jacob, then Garrus and Zaeed...

Finally... Shepard slipped past, giving me a worried look as she went...

Why is she...

Bah, whatever. I'll deal with that later.

Ducking down, I switched my grip as I went under the shutter, then stepped well back, letting it drop as I went, turning to face the room...

It was the docking bay. Shepard had stepped ahead of the others, and shot a guard, keeping him from-

From attacking a skinny guy with a shaved head and more tattoos than clothes. He was wearing trousers and boots, but some kind of belts instead of a shirt...

Then he spoke...

"Who the fuck're you?"

...

Wait... The hell?

No... That's...

THAT'S A GIRL?!

...

Well, fuck me. She is. Girl with a shaved head and wearing nothing but tattoos from the waist up. Great, we're recruiting a skinhead exhibitionist.

I moved up, taking my place just to Shepard's left.

"My name's Shepard, and you're welcome." She retorted, holstering her pistol.

The girl(She looked to be my age or younger) responded rather rudely. "He was already dead, he just didnt know it. Now what do you want?"

"I'm here to recruit you for a mission. After it's been completed, you're free to go and do as you please."

Jack(Had to be, seeing as that's who we're here to pick up) snorted. "You're with Cerberus. No way in hell am I going with you!"

Shepard was annoyed.(Putting it mildly) "Look, this entire ship is going down in flames. I've got the only way out, and I'm offering to take you with me... And you're arguing."

Another explosion rocked the station, as if to emphasize her point.

Jack bit her lip, looking both tense and anxious... (Not surprising, really, after I heard everything else later on)

Something caught my attention... A hissing sound...

Just before an explosion not fifteen feet away knocked Shepard and Jacob on their asses, the rest of us barely staying vertical.(I teetered for a moment, taking a step back in the process)

After shaking the ringing sound from my head, I saw the other two helping them to their feet. Shepard's injury had reopened itself, blood seeping down her abdomen...

"Agh, fuck this!" I marched straight over to the tattooed girl, as her eyes widened and she cocked a fist, a blowing blue field enveloping it...

But she'd never had any formal training in hand-to-hand, obviously. Her form was crude, and while she put her weight into it, she didn't use her legs to back it up.

I easily knocked said fist aside, trapping that arm with my own before driving my knee into her gut, knocking the wind out of her.

In that instant, I picked her up under my arm, turned, and jogged to the airlock, while the others started that way once I did.

"GAH! YOU MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH COCKSUCKER ASSHAT PIECE OF SHIT-!"

Damnit, she's loud... I nonchalantly rapped my knuckles on her skull as I went. She instantly shut her mouth.

We were hauling ass, and once that doorlock hatch opened, I tossed the girl through it by the seat of her pants, turning and making sure the others got through...

Garrus... Jacob... Shepard... Zaeed...

We were good. I stepped through as the hatch shut, and faced the others.

Shepard was breathing heavy, clutching a glowing omni-tool covered hand to her abdomen. Garrus was holding her upright, making sure she didn't fall or pass out, while Jacob was inspecting her injury and applying medigel more carefully. Zaeed was staring down the biotic girl.

Jack had scrambled to her feet, and was glaring at all of us...

Ugh... My head was starting to pound, that damned icepick coming back... Not dealing with this shit.

I rushed over, grabbing her wrists just as they started to glow, and shouted right in her ear. "STAND DOWN! Unless you want to blast ALL of us into vacuum, you calm the fuck down! Now have a seat, and be glad you're out of prison and still breathing."

I forced her into a sitting position on the bench that ran alongside the airlock, taking a knee to keep her in place. As of now, my first priority is to keep everyone alive. If that means pissing off the violent psychopath, so be it.

"I'm gonna kill every one of you Cerberus fucks..." Jack snarled, glaring at me for all she was worth.

"Try it, and I will personally throw your ass out the airlock. We just knowingly walked into a trap for you, so calm down. If we were taking you prisoner, I'd've knocked you clean the fuck out by now."

She didn't stop glaring, but her tense muscles did relax somewhat... Keyword, somewhat.

We waited another two minutes for decontamination to complete... When it had, the hatch opened, and Jacob helped Shepard through, supporting her weight as he escorted her to medical.

Ignoring my instinct to go after and fret over her, I forced myself to abide by what I knew...

Back to SOPs, then.

Garrus and Zaeed were stepping out when I pulled Jack to her feet, spinning her around, firmly getting a grip on her right shoulder, forcing her to walk in front of me.

"Do anything stupid, and I break your neck." I warned her, in a completely flat tone. I had my thumb hooked around her neck and pressed with enough force to let her know that wasn't a bluff.

"Yeah, yeah..." She growled, still exceptionally pissed.

We walked, into the CIC, and I saw many of the crewmen staring at Shepard, who was bleeding and beind helped to the elevator, and myself, who was escorting a half-naked woman covered in tattoos.

"Hey, Garrus."

He turned, looking back at me. He looked tense... I get the feeling he cared about Shepard as much as she cared about him.

"Go keep Shepard company, I'll handle our new guest."

He nodded gratefully, hurrying after her. Heh... Man... That's the kind of friendship that lasts a lifetime...

...Well, it did, seeing as Shepard died, apparently. Eh.

Zaeed was gumbling as he went, heading for the armory. Right, he was returning that launcher...

I sighed, shaking my head as I pulled the shaved girl in the direction of Mordin's lab. She was silently grumbling the entire time, hunching her shoulders reflexively against my grip.

Through the two doors into the lab, I found the salarian still working. Does he ever sleep?

...Probably not.

Anyway. I pulled the girl up and to a stop, and said,

"Hey, Mordin, mind making sure Jack here isn't dying?" He turned, approaching as he answered.

"Certainly, certainy. Remain still, please." He did the same thing to her that he had to me; waved his omni-tool over her a few times, check the results, and make a prognosis.

"Hm. Interesting... No immediate health concerns to report."

I nodded. "Thanks, mate. C'mon, princess." I pulled the angry girl along, as she practically vibrated with anger.

Through the door, and then the next, into the conference room...

I could think of no better place to keep her until Shepard's up and about.

Once in and the door was shut, I released Jack, and she dashed away from me, dropping into a crouch. I was unconcerned... She was unarmed, and I'm a master of close-quarters. It's not like I couldn't strangle the bitch in my sleep.

I looked up, searching for a camera. "EDI, please seal the room until Commander Shepard is available."

"As you wish, Blade."

Huh. I was halfway expecting the AI to say no, but okay. That works.

"Blade? The hell... That's too badass sounding to be the name of some chump like you."

I looked back to Jack, who was glaring at me even harder from the other side of the conference table. Shrugging, I leaned against the nearby guardrail, getting comfortable. Might be here awhile...(I didn't bother dignifying that jibe with a response)

...

"You just gonna sit there and stare at me?" She asked, now glowering.

I shrugged. "Not much else to do, unless you'd care for a game of charades?"

...

"...The fuck is charades?"

I sighed. Right, ancient human over here... "It's a game where someone silently acts out a scene, and the audience has to guess who or what they're trying to be."

"...Who the hell came up with that?"

Again, I shrugged. "Dunno. It was an old game back in my time, though now it's probably ancient and obscure."

Now her expression finally changed, into puzzled/perplexed. "Back in your time? The hell, you don't sound that old."

"I am a hundred and seventy-four years old. A hundred and fifty years ago, they put me in cryogenic stasis. I woke up three days ago, and somehow managed to get myself wrapped up in Shepard's crusade to stop a race called the 'Collectors' from abducting human colonists in the Terminus systems."(Jacob explained it to me in terms that I could easily understand, all without sounding condescending)

Jack was silent... For a short while.

"...Then why the hell are you wearing Cerberus colors? And on a Cerberus ship?"

"Not sure... I was housed in a Cerberus facilty, and woke up wearing the armor. Just haven't had a chance to repaint it... Been meaning to do that. I was never recruited by the organisation, but by Shepard herself. As to the ship... All I've been told is that Shepard died two years ago, and Cerberus spent a fortune bringing her back to life to fight the Collectors, gave her a ship and a crew, to boot. I know fuck-all about any of it, I just follow Shepard's orders."

Her eyes narrowed. "If you don't know anything about it, then why're you helping them?"

"Why not? Ain't like I've got anywhere else to go... No home, no family, and no country. Killing's all I know; at this point, one fight is as good as any other."

"...Do you even know what Cerberus is?"

I nodded. "Human-centric terrorist organisation; 'The ends justify the means' is their motto. I could care less about them; they've fucked me over as much as the bastards who stuck me in that damned tube. But I fight for Shepard, not the Illusive Man."

"Tch, if you're some badass soldier, you could easily find work on Omega, might even hit it big with some rich mafia-type. So why? Why work for Shepard?" Her voice was strange... It didn't set off alarm bells, but nor was it compelling like Shepard's...

"Hmm... Strange question. She gives me purpose, I suppose... Without purpose, I'm nothing more than a killing machine, wandering battlefields until my luck finally runs out. I'm not all that interested in money... Never have been, or I would've working private sector, instead of the military. Helping colonists being abducted by aliens is as good a reason to fight as I've yet found. Still wanna keep playing twenty-one questions?"

Her eyes narrowed. "How come you haven't asked me anything? Everyone else I've run into can't go five minutes without staring at my tits or my tats, and asking stupid questions."

Shrugging, I responded, "Could care less. You didn't volunteer anything, so I didn't ask. What you've done with your life is your business, not mine." I get the feeling she's a bit tight-lipped about her life anyway...

Nearly an hour passed... She was quiet in that time, and I didn't bother making conversation.

I looked to the hologram projector. "EDI, you have a status update on the Commander?"

EDI's holographic avatar appeared instantaneously. "Yes. Doctor chakwas has just finished surgery; Shepard is currently asleep, and confined to bedrest for the next eight hours." I sighed.

"Great... I'm assuming she's alright, then?" That had been bugging me the entire time, itching away in the back of my mind...

"Yes. Shall I unseal the room, Blade?" Her query got Jack's immediate attention, full on me...

I sighed. Great... I looked at Jack. "Can you promise me you won't attack anyone or start any fights, Jack?"

"I won't 'start' any, but I'll damn well finish them." ...Good enough.

I looked back to EDI's terminal. "Very well... Please, EDI."

The door behind me unlatched, and I turned, beckoning the tattooed woman to follow me.

I didn't bother looking back... I knew she'd be right on my heels.

Through the door, then the lab, back into CIC. Jack was right behind me the entire time, glaring back at anyone who stared at her. Heh, I kinda liked that part of her... Proud, determined to be herself despite what others think.

Anywho. We passed by Kelly Chambers, who discreetly gulped and busied herself at her console, trying to look inconspicuous. I get the feeling that she's just a wee bit afraid of Jack...

Or me.

I went into the elevator, turning and hitting the button for deck 3 just as baldilocked walked in. Doors shut, it started to descend...

"Hey Blade, or whatever you name is." Jack asked, to my left.

"Yes?" I turned, to look at h-

*FWUMPK-CRACK!*

...

"AGH! SON OF A BITCH!"

...

She cursed, shaking her hand out.

I chuckled... I'd barely felt that punch, but I'm willing to bet she did.(Made me look straight ahead when I'd been turning to look at her, but that's about it. Didn't hurt, just forced me to look a different direction for a second)

"Remember, deary, this hurts me more than it hurts you..." I mocked, chuckling.

"Fuck you." I couldn't help laughing at that.

"How eloquent... You've gotta admit, you had that comging when you decided to punch me in the mouth while I'm wearing a full helmet."

"Again, fuck you."

...I just chuckled louder.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

On deck 3, I stepped off, heading to my right, around the elevator shaft with Jack on my heels, still shaking her bruised knuckles.

We went past several staring crewmen, heading over to Sergeant Gardner, who was manning the kitchen.

"Hey, Sarge. You got time for two more?" He looked up, caught sight of us, and sighed.

"Yeah, lemme just fire up the range..."

Jack sat at the stool, sending glares at anyone who stared. It was amusing, to say the least.

As he worked, I said, "She's a biotic, by the way. Set her up with the same portions I eat." Jacob told me that biotics need to eat a lot, and that means about as much as I do. Which is a lot. As in, I eat more than Jacob does, and man can he eat...

Gardner stopped, and cursed. "Great... That just doubled the time I need to spend cooking. Thanks for that."

I shrugged. "Sorry. Say, when the hell did they start serving fried shit? The MREs I had way back weren't the best, but they were a damn sight better than the crap they're giving you now, Sarge."

He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "I don't fucking know anymore... Twenty years back, military rations weren't too bad. Edible, at least. Then they switched to this cheaper, high-calorie, vat-grown crap for the bioitics... Bleugh. Fried shit is about right. I asked the Commander about ordering some better provisions, but they haven't come in yet... I'd give it another few days of this shit before we'll have a real meal."

He was shaking his head again as he cooked, fixing up a fuckton of food caked with strong spices, to drown out the taste of shit.

"Well, cap'n, you're the only person on this can I trust to turn the stuff into something resembling food." I was smiling, even if the effort was wasted. He got my meaning.

"Hah! Well, thanks for your confidance in my abilities. Say, miss, you've been awfully quiet. Not the talkative type, eh?" Ah, there he goes...

"No, I'm more of the silent, murdering type." She responded, completely deadpan.

Gardner paused for a moment...

"Well, so long as you're not the silent-but-deadly type, I'm happy. And hey, drink plenty of water with this stuff, or you won't shit for a week." He called back, still working for another few moments, before busying himself piling food on a pair of trays.

He gracefully(For a forty-something year old man) turned and laid the trays out in front of us with a flourish, dusting his hands off as he started on washing the dishes he'd dirtied.

I picked up mine, turned, and was about to walk away when I remembered Jack...

"You want to eat here, or somewhere secluded?" I asked, being polite, at least.

Without missing a beat, she looked over to the few crewmen who quickly looked away from her, back to me.

"Yeah, someplace where I won't be stared at would be nice." She joined me as I walked back to the elevator, and took it down to engineering.

Off the elevator, I moved to the left on instinct, through the next door and down the stairs, into the hold...

I noticed Jack's steps falter for a moment, before picking back up to normal tempo...

Strange... Is she afraid of the dark, or something? Eh.

Down in the hold, I took a seat on the rack, placing the tray on my lap. Jack hesitated for a moment...

"What is it?" I asked, looking to where she stood.

"...Nothing." She moved past me, sitting in the chair and setting her tray on the workbench, digging into it.

...Whatever.

I unsealed my helmet, removing and setting it beside me, cracking my neck and running a hand through my buzzcut...

Sometimes I wonder... Have 150 years really passed... Or am I dreaming...

Or maybe I'm dead... I don't know...

Sighing, I put that aside and started eating. Eugh, still nasty-tasting, but the extra spices help...

Just get it down your neck...

Can't remember where I heard that before... But it helps.

I ate quickly, like I always do, and set the tray aside. Jack belched loudly, then sat back in the chair. "Eh... S'better than prison food."

I shook my head... Man, if this girl can eat this crap, there's nothing she can't eat.

She turned, looking at me...

"Huh."

"What?" I asked, looking back at her.

"You're not bad looking... I was expecting you to be some kinda butt-ugly motherfucker, the way you kept your helmet on so long."

I shrugged. "I prefer to keep it on. Another layer between my head and a bullet, y'know? Besides, the entire armorsuit has a rough cost of some twelve and a half billion credits, and a good chunk of it went into the helmet design and construction. Most of the systems are routed through it, everything from heads-up display to communications and navigation. You'd be amazed at how useful a motion sensor and IFF system are in low-light situations. Beyond that... Heh, most of the modern helmet systems don't have nightvision or thermal. Mine has both."

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You like your gadgets, don't you?"

"Hell, yes. Compared to the shit they've got now, me and my own were throwing rocks at each other. See this rifle?"

I pulled my Avenger from my back, setting the butt on the floor. "The M8 roughly has the punch of an old 30.06, with the recoil of a 5.56mm round. It's accurate out to 1100 metres, with an effective range of 800. My old M4 carbine was a 5.56, with a maximum range of 500 metres. Its effective range was around 180. And that's before you put all the fancy new gadgets into play. A scope that automatically identifies targets, doesn't need to be sighted in, and adjusts for ranges from point-blank to more than a kilometre away. Then you've got the smart targeting that adjusts for all enviornments and enemy defenses... Goddamn, it does everything but wipe your ass for you. Wait, fuck that, I think you can attatch a roll of toiletpaper to it..."

Jack sniggered, amused by my antics. "You supposed to be a soldier, or a comedian?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I can't be both?"

"Well, now I know why Shepard took you along. Comic relief."

Shrugging, "We've all got our uses... Some more than others."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"The only good bureaucrat is one with a pistol at his head. Put it in his hand and it's good-bye to the Bill of Rights." -American author, H. L. Mencken (1880-1956)**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Gun control: The theory that a woman found dead in an alley, raped and strangled with her pantyhose, is somehow morally superior to a woman explaining to police how her attacker got that fatal bullet wound." — L. Neil Smith


	5. Chapter 5

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#5 _**Damnit, I just Cleaned that...**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I sat back and pulled my rifle up, unlatching the thermal clip compartment and ejecting the chambered one. After that, I pulled it apart, going into my mini-trance of monotonous preparation and maintainence...

Pull this, remove that, set aside, rinse and repeat until disassembled. Once done, I activated my omni-tool and started using the various weapon-maintainence functions to clean my rifle.

...Not that it needed it, but I had everything wiped off, oiled up, reassembled and reloaded within a minute. Then I started on my pistols...

Jack spoke up. "That was pretty quick..."

I shrugged. "My M4 was a drama queen when it came to maintainence. Hell, all DI guns are. If you don't clean your piece, Charlie's gonna clean your ass."(They're all lubricant-intensive. Fuck you very much if you EVER tell me they're more reliable than a piston gun,[and by that I mean one designed from the ground-up as a piston gun. AK, M14, M1...] 'cuz they're not. They require more maintainence than a piston-based action; the more intricate you make something, and the more engineering you put into it, the more attention it needs to keep it up and running. Keep it simple, stupid. Rant over)

"...Charlie?"

Oh. Right. "Sorry, old US military slang for enemy combatants. Charlie was the army's phoenetic alphabet designation for the Viet Cong and NVA during the Vietnam War back in the sixties and seventies. It just kinda stuck. When the M16 first came out, it was rumored that it never needed to be cleaned... Which was bullshit, of course. And DI stands for direct impingement, or direct gas impingement. It's an old system designed by Eugene Stoner, so that when you fired a cartridge through the weapon, the excess gas pressure would go through a tube and force the bolt backward, ejecting the spent shell casing while the buffer spring would push it back into battery, while stripping a round out of the magazine and into the chamber, thus operating the action. Good design, if you keep it clean and well-lubed. Any dust or dirt in it will gum up the oil, and make the bolt stick like the pink glove in summer. And if you don't oil it real well, the whole thing overheats and jams like a motherfucker. DI guns like to run wet, so standard operating procedure was to drown the damned thing in oil.(Gun/description porn over with) 'Course, that entire clusterfuck came back to bite us in ass when we got deployed in a fuckmothering **desert**... Fucking _idiot_ brass." I was shaking my head again, rememebering how many times I saw the boys' rifles jam up when we were in the sandbox...

Well, soon after, they FINALLY changed out for the M416, and saved us a lotta problems. Heh, a good few of us signed out some M27 IARs early on, at least four of us, including myself... Then we had a couple more grabbing M110s, and... Whatshisface got an M240, since he had a small penis.

...We made so much fun of him for that.

"Anyway, history lesson aside, all grunts had to learn how to take very good care of their equipment, 'cuz the corps had the smallest budget, and all we ever got were hand-me-downs from the other services, and an occasional new item if something got so fucked it couldn't be repaired. We learned how to unload, fieldstrip, clean, lube, reassemble and reload our rifles AND sidearms blindfolded, in under two minutes per gun."

I looked up, and saw Jack staring at me, blinking. "...You guys were real sticklers, weren'tcha? And you said you've only been awake for three days... How the hell'd you learn how to clean those things that fast?"

"I only need to see and do something once, to completely understand and memorize it. Compared to the firearms of my day, these new weapons are simplicity defined. Every marine is a rifleman, and a perfectionist. I haven't had much chance to look at the new marines getting trained by the Alliance, but I'm willing to bet my left arm that they're nothing compared to the leathernecks I served with. All this new tech and fancy machinery takes away from the training; the soldiers don't learn attention-to-detail, a key element for infantry. I'm not talking about the uniforms, since I could care less if you look like shit, so long as you know how to do your damn job. I mean learning to be a perfectionist, to accept NOTHING short of first place. To not only be willing to put forth one hundred and ten percent, but actually want to do so, just to push yourself as an individual. I'll say this; drill sergeants are nitpickers, and they'll find any reason they can to chew your ass out, just to make you learn to be thorough, and not half-ass anything."

"You enjoyed being a soldier, didn't you?" She asked, leaning back in the chair, casually tossing an arm over the back.

"Aye,(Pronounced like "I" or "Eye," not "Ay," you bloody idiots. It means "Yes") and I still do. Soldiering's the only thing I know; go here, kill him, accomplish that, guard this, and don't fuck up or get yourself killed. I don't know much about how things are now, but I garuntee they're nothing like the twenty-first century." I shook my head again, reassembling my second handgun and reloading it. Setting it back on my thigh, I picked up my helmet, looking it over...

There was a slight ding on the right-side, a scratch in the paint, but that was about it. The bulk of it was black, with white secondary colors, and gold accents... Despite the colors, it was... Menacing. Looking into the visor, you only saw your own reflection gazing back at you... As a faceless killing machine destroyed everything you knew, and slaughtered everyone you love...

...Looking at it sent a shiver up my spine.

"Tell me about it."

I looked up, gazing back at the convict... She was looking me in the eye, curiosity burning in her bright blue irises.

"Huh." I grunted, mulling that over...

"...What?" She asked, head tilted.

"You didn't strike me as the curious type, is all."

"What, I'm bored. Not like there's anything else to do... Well, maybe one other thing, but I'll save that for later. So c'mon, tell me about yourself." She was smirking again, intently watching me... Huh. Wierd.

"Very well... I was raised by normal parents in a normal sub-rural area on the East Coast. When I was young, my grandmother did most of the parenting, for some reason or other. I got through school easy enough, no one really messed with me... More than once. I got lucky and graduated from highschool early, going out into the real world two years early. Then I enlisted, eager to get the _fuck_ out of there... That place was suffocating. I wanted nothing more than to live life to the fullest, to push myself beyond the threshold of being human. I found those challenges in the United States Marine Corps, joining up as a Corporal, into the marine special forces."

I sat back, rolling my shoulders... I find myself doing that a lot, lately.

Anyway, I continued. "After two whole years of training in and out of combat zones, I was finally deployed as a Staff Sergeant. My MOS(Military occupation specialty) was listed as Rifleman, but I was responsible for everything from designated marksman, machine gunner, corpsman and breecher, to point man and designated driver. If my squad leader needed it done then and there, I was the unlucky bastard he picked out. 'Hey Wolf, go poke that thing with a stick, see if it blows up.' Guy was a prick, but he was funny as all hell."

"Wolf?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Aye. I had a wolf decal spray-painted on my kevlar, along with a patch on my sleeve. It became my callsign for my lone wolf tactics and initiative on and around the battlefield. Heh, nine times outta ten, by the time the LT told me to do something, I was already in the middle of it. Moving along, most of my career was spent with helljumpers, or paratroopers, jumping out of planes into enemy territory. I did six combat tours, all without a single promotion. Stingy bastards. Anyway, after serving four years, I was a First Sergeant, which was damned rare, all things considered. I was damned good at my job, and didn't need anyone telling me how to do it, and it got me noticed. A General heard from my Lieutenant that I was the one running the squad, at a modest rank of Staff Sergeant, and he was pissed. He said that if I was that good, the LT shoulda been out on his ass, and I jumped up three ranks that same day. Then they gave me my own green-as-grass set of toadies, fresh outta spec4 traning. Man, those were the days...

Anyway, my boys trained with me for a good two months, then we were deployed in the sandbox. Two years later, and the second Korean War breaks out, after we'd garnered a bit of a repuation, taking out several terrorist cells. My squad was apart of a helljumper detatchment, along with four other ten-man squads, each one under its own lieutenant, with a single captain keeping them in line, while the LT kept us squad leaders in line. Tell you one of the strangest things... My squad was one of the first special forces units to have any broad-assed marines deployed during combat tours, oddly enough. Kept things... Interesting."

...Interesting, yeah, that's the word I'm looking for... I think.

It took Jack a moment to figure out what that meant... "Wait, women in special forces? That's what you meant?" Her expression hadn't changed... I think.

"Aye. Back then, they were just starting to deploy females in the infantry, for both the Marines and the Army. Hell, they'd only placed female officers in submarines not even three years before that. It was interesting to have 'em around, I admit... Never a dull moment, I tell ya. One of the two was the best sniper I'd ever seen... Agh, still can't remember shit when it comes to names..." I was muttering to myself again, straining my brain to the point where my head felt like an overipe melon.

"You can't remember anyone's names?" She was puzzled, staring at me with that cute perplexed expression... Huh. Even with a shaved head, she wasn't too bad looking... Though I prefer women who are a bit better endowed in the breast department.

I shook my head morosely. "Not a one. Names, faces, friends, family, details... A lot of it's just gone, like tapping the side of a CD player to get it to skip over something so you'll miss it. You KNOW something's missing, just not WHAT's missing, y'know? Pretty sure a century in cryo does wierd shit to your head, but it's still unsettling... Can't even remember my own name... Bah, nothing to be done about it. Just gotta start from scratch, and make new memories to replace what's gone. Hopefully I'll find something to fill in the blanks someday..." I shrugged at the end of all that, before finishing up my monolouge.

"Anyway, after the Korean conflict ended, some months later I was... Doing something somewhere, and was drugged and shoved into some kinda tube, then... Nothing. I woke up groggy as all hell wearing this armor, didn't know my own name, and the facility I was in was chock full of dead bodies, all Cerberus. Somehow got my shit together enough to get armed and out, took a shuttle to Omega and got myself involved with Shepard. There you are, my life story." I sat back, pulling my helmet back on, resealing it.

"...Huh."

After everything sync'd up, I stored my rifle on my back and leaned my elbows on my knees, interlacing my fingers.

"...You aren't going to ask me anything?" She was still worried about that?

"Not unless you want to tell me. I get the feeling you value your privacy, ya?"

She blinked dumbly. "Huh. You know me better than most and I haven't told you a damn thing. Wow." Again, I gave the Air Force salute.(A shrug)

"More ink than skin, shaved head, belts instead of a shirt, enough profanity to put a Drill Sergeant to shame, with leather trousers and combat boots? I figured either fashion has gone to hell, or you're an antisocial rebel with issues. No sense in poking a beehive with a stick if you can already hear it buzzing." She snorted, chuckling.

"Good expression, wish more people knew it." She leaned forward, mimicking my posture. "Alright... You've spilled enough, so why don't I tell you a story?"

"Oh, goody. Does it have lions and tigers and bears?"

...

"The fuck izzat supposed to mean?"

I merely chuckled, and said, "Nothing, it was an old children's story from my time. So, what is it you wish to tell me?"

"How about how Cerberus fucked me over." Her expression had become serious... Oh, no, time for me to break out my box of Kleenex. Gonna be a real tear-jerker, I garuntee.

"For some reason, I get the feeling I should probably repaint my armor sooner, rather than later."

"Yeah... You should."

And then... She proceded to tell me all about her childhood, from age four to fourteen... Everything about what Cerberus did to her as Subject Zero.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After some time, she finished speaking... Going silent, intently watching me for my reaction...

I was... Less than enthused. I'm one of the few people who truly understands her... Being locked away, conditioned to fight, forced to kill... Just the thought of it brought back unwanted memories of DOG... And of the faceless girl I cared for. I suppressed a shudder, keeping my body eerily still...

"...You're not gonna say anything?"

I shook my head. "What is there to say...? That I'm sorry, that I understand your pain?(I actually do, but no way in hell am I bringing that up... Not to anyone) There is nothing I can say to numb such deep wounds... It is that pain that shapes each and every one of us, and forces us to choose. To either break, and give it all up... Or to endure, to become stronger than our tormentors. We are made by our experiences, and driven by our convictions. It is not my place to tell you that you are strong; that is something you must decide on your own. For me... I will never be strong enough. I've already failed."

"That's..."

I stood, dusting myself off. "Enough. It's late... Get some rest. I'll wake you when Shepard's up and available to brief you."

She gave me a withering glare. "What, you're my jailor now?"

"No, I am your escort, since you have not been formally inducted as apart of the crew. So long as you do not harm any of the ship's inhabitants or damage the ship itself, then I'll fight just as hard to protect you as I would Shepard herself. And since she still won't be up and about for another five hours minimum, you would better spend your time getting some sleep while you've the opportunity."

"Hmph." She stood, rolling her eyes and going over to the rack, unceremoniously dropping into it. "I don't like being watched while I sleep."

I chuckled. "Sucks to be you, then... The AI has cameras all throughout the ship, even here. That's likely a good thing, though; no chance of a stowaway getting onboard unnoticed."

"Tch... Fucking great. A voyeur of a computer..." She muttered, grumbling as she shifted to get comfortable. I had moved to the opposite side, leaning back against one of the steel supports.

She turned her head, looking over her shoulder at me. "Hey, Blade..."

"Yes?" I responded, my voice once again a complete monotone... Despite my turmoiled emotions.

"...Thanks." I shrugged, already kowing what she meant.

"It's nothing... We've all got pain that we keep close to our hearts."

I let that statement hang in the air, as I shifted a bit, getting comfortable...

Knowing Shepard, she'll be up and about in four hours.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Three and a half hours later...**

"_Blade, please escort Jack to the conference room._" EDI's synthetic voice woke me from my zen-like trance, blinking as I looked towards the woman in question...

She immediately rolled over and got up, rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck. Well, I suppose I should expect her to be a light sleeper, being on the run all the time.

I stopped propping up the wall, turning and heading for the stairs, tossing her a beckoning wave.

...I heard her boots clomping and clanging on the steel right behind me, the entire way.

When we entered the elevator, we just caught Ken, the Scottish(Or Irish) engineer, just as he was getting off.

"Whoa-ho-ho! Well, what 'ave we here?" He asked, hungrily eyeing up Jack's form with a perverted gleam in his eyes... He was a ladies' man, apparently.

"Outta my way, ya fuckin' leprechaun." Jack grabbed his uniform, pulling him out the door and tossing him aside as if he weighed nothing.(And he had to be at least DOUBLE her size!)

_'...Apparently not.'_

I heard the other engineer, Gabby, giggling all the way in the engine room, laughing her ass off as Ken got to his feet, grumbling.

Heh, poor, poor, horny bastard.

Er, anyhow, up the elevator we went, as I chuckled.

"What? I don't like his accent, so sue me."

...

"Pff, hahahahahahahahahaaa!"

...For some reason, she couldn't understand why I was laughing my ass off.

After stepping off the lift and heading back through Mordin's lab,(No new info about that datapad. Gonna have to ask EDI about that) and into the conference room.

Inside, Shepard was leaning her back against one of the guardrails, arms crossed.

"Shepard, good to see you're still in one piece. Feeling better?" I asked, inclining my head in greeting.

She was still frowning. "Feel like shit, but I'll live. Jack." She looked at the convict in question, before making her query. "I suppose Blade explained why we went to the trouble of getting you out?"

"Some of it, but I figure you'll tell me more anyway." She responded, and I figured now was a good a time as any to get the hell out.

"I'll be around if you need me, Shepard." I turned, heading out... I could feel her gaze on my back as I left.

As I passed by Mordin, he called, "Blade, check with EDI, heard she finished decrypting data. ...With interesting results."

...? Okay...

I'll deal with that in just a few. First off...

I waved back to him, acknowledging that info, before heading down the elevator and into medical.

"Hey, doc, you got a minute?" Chakwas turned in her swivel chair, looking me over.

"Yes? What is it?" Her voice was mature and motherly, almost. Hm.

"Could you run a few tests? I've been getting blackouts every now and again, and I'd rather find out if I have space-cancer before I keel over." She nodded, standing.

"Ah, yes. Shepard mentioned that... Remain still, please." She activated her omni-tool, and began scanning me the same way Mordin had. "Now, what symptoms have you noticed?"

"My vision changes, going grayscale just before I lose perception of everything around me. It starts from the edges, slowly creeping halfway across my vision, then it just completely envelops it for less than five seconds, before I black out completely. After I come to each time, I get a migraine from hell, entire right side of my head. As far as I know, it's happened three times... But the last one was, different."

"Define different." She responded, looking over the results of whatever test she'd been running.

"My vision turned grey, but I didn't black out. Instead I just felt... Elated. Euphoric, as though I were on top of the world. It lasted no more than three minutes, but for the duration, I felt no pain, no stress, and no negative emotions whatsoever. It felt like... Like I was riding the greatest adrenaline high I'd ever experienced. My physical abilities increased by a wide margin, and... The other wierd thing... My voice had changed, though I couldn't tell you how or why. Shepard or one of the others could probably explain that better."

As she stood there looking at me with a confused, yet curious expression, I asked, "I don't suppose this is something you're encountered before?"

"No, but it is interesting. Evidence of several recently torn and sheared muscles, ligaments and... Well, now... Are you experiencing any discomfort?" She asked, looking at me funny.

"Not really. No aches or pains, at least. Er, is something wrong?" I wasn't liking the way she was eyeing me up...

"...Nothing, but don't remove that armor for awhile longer."

Oh...Kay...

"Now lie down on that bed and try not to break anything." She moved over to her console/computer, typing something out on it.

"Gotcha." I did so, carefully maneuvering my bulky frame onto the bed without destroying the delicate-looking machinery that was set up around it.

After shifting into a comfortable position, some of the machinery began to work... A robotic arm swung out overtop of me, moving closer, before an arc of light stretched from it, over me...

A scanner of some sort...

"This is a more comprehensive scan than the one I just performed. Please remain still for the duration."

Okay... Same as the MRI and X-rays I had before. Lovely.

Anywho, I lay there for some five minutes as the different scanners passed over me, scanning my entire body, suit and all.(I assumed they were scanning, since they looked like scanners to me. They might've just been taking pictures; the doc looked like a cougar if there ever was a one)

After that... I heard Chakwas inhale sharply.

I asked without looking, "What's up, doc?"

"It's... My god... And I thought the cybernetics Shepard has were advanced..."

...?

"Uh, okay... Cybernetics? So, what, I've got a few chips in my body?" They can't have advanced too much in cybernetics... I mean they were still prototyping in my time, by now they might be commonplace for small stuff, but nothing major.

"No... It would be closer to say you have _billions_ of chips in your body."

...

I looked up at her. "...I'm a cyborg?"

She facepalmed, chuckling. "Effectively, yes. Much of your nervous system has been retrofitted with extremely advanced cybernetic enhancements... I wasn't able to detect them with a basic medical scan, but your body's iron and electrolyte levels looked a little high, so I went with a higher-frequency scan. What I found... Is astounding. Cerberus brought Shepard back from the dead, but you... They did that and more. Your entire circulatory system is flooded with nanomachines, which are constantly monitoring and adjusting your system. Without them, you would die within minutes, of a violent shift in core temperature or from cardiac arrest. However, they are self-replicating, and an integral part of your body's functions. Your skeletal system has been reinforced with daimond-carbide nanotubes, making it virtually indestructible, yet exceptionally well-disguised... It is unsurprising that Mordin didn't notice it during his initial scan. Your adrenal glands are exceptionally overdeveloped, but your immune system has been repressed by that. The nanites currently compensate for it, as does the suit itself. None of this surprises me, as Cerberus is known for their advances in science. What does, however... There are two things. Your body has been physically and genetically alterred; the genetic changes are primitive, but have effectively made you into an exceptional example of the human male, but physically... There are ports that have been built along your spinal cord and, specifically, your thoracic vertebrae. They connect you to the suit itself, making it compatible with you alone. And that's before I even get into what they did your brain... Somehow, parts of your memory have litterally been erased through careful application of radiation, limited to a single scope of mental recognition."

She was shaking her head after spouting all of that, an amazed look on her aged features.(I was just barely keeping up with what she was saying. Memory erased? Okay, someone out there just earned himself a bullet between the eyes)

"...Alright, so basically... Cerberus tried to make me into some sorta uber-badass, nigh-indestructible supersoldier. That about it?" I got up off the bed, standing.

She nodded. "Yes, in layman's terms. There are still other things built into you that are nonfunctioning, and have yet to be activated... Once they are, I might be able to tell you what they do. Still... The fact that they rebuilt Shepard tells me that Cerberus knows what they're doing. Looking at you, I see what they wanted to make her into... A soldier stronger and tougher than any krogan, with reaction times that go beyond superhuman, that can sustain injuries that would cripple or outright kill any normal person. Simply astounding... Several advanced ocular synaptic processors are built right into the cybernetics attatched to your nervous system, making your reaction times border on the hundred-thousandths of a second, with thought processes not far behind. Astounding... But the only thing that worries me... How did Cerberus manage to _afford_ all this? Especially when they're rebuilding the Normandy and Shepard at the same time? I would go so far as to say that you cost nearly as much as the ship!"

...

Me, cost as much as the damned ship? Holy fuck. Wow.

...Well, looks like I didn't get that much of a raw deal after all...

"Wait. Is there anything you can tell me about the blackouts?" I asked, once again worried...

She shook her head. "Nothing."

EDI's synthetic voice came over the PA system...

"Blade, I may be able to shed some light on the situation, if you would like." Aha! I knew EDI would come through for me!(No, I didn't)

"Would you please?"

"Very well. I am transferring the data to your omni-tool now... I advise that you find a secluded location and sit down before reading."

...

Ohhhh, that is SO not good, when an AI tell you to sit down when recieving news.

Fuuuck...

I turned back to the doc. "Thanks, doctor. I owe you one."

"Just doing my job, dear. Go on, and try not to destroy anything."

Inclining my head, I turned and left, heading out... Gotta go down and figure this shit out.

But before that, I'm gonna grab myself a bite to eat, 'cuz for some reason, I've got a sudden craving for carrots...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After grabbing a few dehydrated carrots,(They didn't have any fresh ones, the bastards) I took the elevator down, then meandered over to my little cubby-hole area, where I was surprised to find Jack, with her feet kicked up on the workbench, fondling an M3.

"I see you've gotten into the weapons. Having fun?"

She looked up, over her shoulder. "Yeah, I am."

After sitting down, I unsealed and removed my helmet, running a hand through my hair again. It felt... Nice, for some reason. I started munching on the carrots, somewhat displeased by the mushy crap... I prefer the fresh, crisp ones, right outta the ground. Much healthier.

Anyway. After finishing those, I was about to pull my helmet back on when Jack stood, walking over.

"Hey Blade."

I looked up, automatically responding. "Yes?"

...Just as the word left my mouth, her fist cracked against my jaw.

Ow.

...

I blinked, slowly turning my head back to stare at her.

...She was shaking her hand out again, grimacing. "Goddamn! What the hell are you made of, fuckin' iron?"

"Daimond-carbide nanotubes, actually. Apparently, Cerberus thought it was a good idea to make my bones unbreakable. Rather nice of them, wasn't it? So what was that for, exactly?" My jaw stung a little, but I've taken worse hits from falling outta my chair.

"For when you kneed me earlier."

I nodded sagely. "And does that make you feel better, having hurt yourself not once, but TWICE, trying to inflict pain on me?"

...

"Shut up." Was Jack's only response, as her cheeks burned bright red.

Blade, two.

Jack, zero. Heheheh.

Hey, that's a good pun, even if it was unintentional.

I had a good chuckle at her expense, but when she yelled, "The fuck're you laughing at?!" I really embarassed her, I think...

"Your expression. You look really cute when you blush." Needless to say, I was beaming when I said that, thus darkening her cheeks further. Red as a tomato, chin to the tips of her ears.

"Cute?!"

...

"Yes, cute. In fact, I can just see you wearing a pretty little pink dress with your hair grown out, and I've gotta admit... You could probably pull it off, tattoos and all."

...

Y'know, it was totally worth the pain when she punched me, just to see that blushing face of hers.

After a few more chuckles, I finally donned my helmet again(Thus deterring her from punching me again) and brought up my omni-tool, skimming through the data EDI had decrypted and sent back to me. I went straight for the bits that had been encrypted, that I had yet to see...

Aye-yai-yai...

They were referred to as "S"... An unknown pharmaceutical corporation... A nameless, faceless number of bureacrats...

The datapad... It had data on what they did to me... As well as those who put me in that capsule. But it was S that was pulling the strings...

Several new things have been unlocked, but... Much of it was tampered with.

_Personnel Roster... Corrupted._

_Family lineage... Deleted._

_Subject history... Partially intact._

_List of security measures... Intact._

_Experimentation records... Partially intact._

_Researcher notes... Partially intact._

I began to read... The notes first.

And _**REMEMBER.**_

_Subject's current alterations are suitable for our needs. Malleable immune system, excellant physical condition, exceptional training, vast intellect, and a nearly limitless capacity to learn._

_Attempts to indoctrinate subject into Cerberus in question; currently starting mental wipe and rewrite process, 12% completed..._

_The Illusive Man wants results, fast. We simply don't have enough time to do what he's asking us to do... However, the imprinting project is a complete success, by all accounts. Subject will be a perfect mate for- __DOCUMENT CORRUPTED_

...

A perfect mate... What does that even mean...

I went back, and into Experimentation records. The dates were gone, as was all but the most recent diagnostics...

...

_Cerebral augments... Successful._

_Nervous system overhaul... Complete._

_Ocular synaptic processors, functioning at optimal efficiency._

_Prototype Valhalla armorsuit functioning at- _

_ALERT! System mainframe only functioning at 30%. Full system restore required..._

_..._

_Warning. Sabotage detected. System software overwritten... _

_Manual collection of data required to reactivate full suit functioning. _

_..._

_ALERT! ALERT! INTRUDERS DETECTED! ALL SECURITY STAFF GO TO CODE BLACK! REPEAT! CODE BLACK! [Rest of message too corrupted for retrieval]_

...

That's it... No more data on what they did to me... Nothing. It's all corrupted or deleted...

But... There is one other thing... Security measures taken...

Inside was... A list of... Dead... Just how many people died in that facility...?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**[Cue music; Wisdom, Justic and Love, by Linkin Park; Album, A Thousand Suns]**

_Subject had deep connections within the military, particularly with MARSOC. In order to maintain project secrecy and security, certain unwanted elements were eliminated, including the following;_

_Lance Corporal Roycewitz, by means of vehicle collision. No suspicion of foul play reported._

Royce... He was a good kid... The FNG of the group, and one of our snipers... He had a damned good head on his shoulders, and a full life ahead of him... The heart and soul of the squad. And someone went and killed him...

_Gunnery Sergeant Thompson, by means of murder-rape, framing Lieutenant Murphy in the process. Investigation underway... _

Thompson... She was a sapper, and our demo expert, an exceptionally friendly person... The friendliest girl I knew... Who happened to love blowing things up. They... Raped and murdered her... Those whoresons...!

_Lieutenant Murphy, by means of direct intervention, made to appear as a suicide during investigation. False evidence planted to ensure no one will look further into the incident. No suspicion of foul play has been reported._

What...? Murph... He was... No way. He was the second-best in CQC... I took first. Not only was he smart, funny, and an all-around great guy... He spent all his time helping others... No way in hell would he rape Thompson... He was married. How...Why would someone kill him?... No...

_Gunnery Sergeant Masterson, by means of vehicle collision. Little suspicion reported, due to operative failure. Operative has since been removed from duty._

Big man, Gunny Masters... He was the backbone, the driving force behind us... He would get up and haul ass, making the enemy take pot shots at him, to lessen the risk to the rest of us... And a little car killed him...? Those sons of...

_Corporal Smithson, by means of direct intervention, made to appear as alchohol poisoning. No suspicion as to his cause of dead have been reported. Local ME eliminated soon after_

...Schmitty... He wasn't the nicest guy... But he had a heart of gold. Half his paycheck went to Red Cross... And he was straight edge... No way in hell...

_Staff Sergeant Mathews, by means of direct intervention, made to appear to be a home invasion gone wrong. Wife and child also eliminated, to decrease suspicion._

Matty... They... They killed him and Monica... He was a family man, devoted to his wife... When he found out she was pregnant, he ended his contract early, to be with her...

And those motherfuckers... Just killed them?!

I...Couldn't look away. I had to see... Had to know...

_Captain Rawlings, bought off and eliminated by direct intervention, made to appear as a drug deal gone wrong. No suspicion reported. Sidenote; Funds recovered in full._

The stalwart captain... A prick, but he was a man of his word, and of his convictions... Not possible...

And yet... It was the next name and description that sent me over the edge.

_Master Sergeant Smith, eliminated by direct intervention, made to appear as rape followed by suicide. No suspicion of foul play reported._

...

I- I just...

I lost it. I stopped reading, as everything around me turned blood red... My vision soaked through with crimson...

They...

They killed Rachel...

They raped and murdered her...

Her, an innocent girl with the heart of an angel, and the soft nature that made it seem impossible for her to be a marine...

They...

They...!

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**[Cue music; Lights Out, by Breaking Benjamin; Album, Dear Agony]**

"Whoa whoa whoa! Hey stop! You're gonna destroy the entire ship, asshole! Stop!" Jack was struggling in vain trying to stop Blade, as he smashed a fist through one of the steel supports in a rage.

His armor was glowing red... The same way it had back on Purgatory, but this time...

He was out of control, roaring like some kind of monster she'd only seen in horror vids. even a krogan in bloodrage wasn't this destructive... He tore clean through a steel girder barehanded, and there were no signs of him stopping anytime soon. By the time he was done, the entire ship would be in pieces.

Jack had no warning when he threw her off, slamming her back against the workbench, as he began to march towards the stairs, taking even, heavy steps... A dark growling sound emenating from him the entire time.

It didn't even sound human...

But within seconds, Shepard appeared, bounding down the stairs with a gun in her hand, and she got right in his face, gun jammed against him.

"Blade! STOP!"

He didn't even glance in her direction... Just pushed past her, completely ignoring the woman.

She tackled him, to no avail. He didn't react, just kept walking... Like a machine.

**"...Gonna kill 'em... **_**I**__a_**m **_g_o_**I**_n**g **_T_**o **_**k**_i**L**_l_** t**H_**e**_m** ALL!**" He roared, voice sounding... Inhuman. Like a real monster...

No...

A monster would have rampaged senselessly, attacking anything in its path...

He didn't turn on Jack, even in his anger.

And he won't hurt Shepard... Somehow, Jack was sure of that. Somehow.

As the Commander scrambled back to her feet, Blade turned...

She was raising her gun, as his arm snapped out, gripping her by the throat...

Jack's eyes widened, and she thought she just might have been wrong. Struggling to her feet, she was ready to risk using her biotics in these confined spaces, if only to stop him.

...However...

Shepard jammed her gun against Blade's side, jerking the trigger...

Once... Twice... Twelve times, her weapon discharged, held against a slight opening in his armor. Blood was pouring out, darkening the lights along his abdomen and left leg, but he didn't so much as flinch.

"St..and 'own. Sta-ndown!" She was shouting, kicking the big man in his wounded gut and chest, to no effect.

But he stood there, motionless, pinning her in place for what felt like ages...

Before those lights faded away, and he let go of her neck, arm falling limp at his side, and he fell to his knees.

There he sat, unmoving, as Shepard held a hand to her throat, taking a step back, breathing heavy. She was expecting him to get back up, but he never so much as twitched...

**[Music Change; Untitled and Unloved, by Killswitch Engage; Album, Alive or Just Breathing]**

...But he spoke...

"...Gomen... Gomenasai..."

Shepard's eyes widened, and she breathed a sigh of relief... Feeling her neck, she realised something. It wasn't broken, not even tender. His grip was skintight, and restricted breathing, but...

It wasn't strangling... He hadn't even left a mark. He held back... Purposely, even in his anger. Her voice had brought him back, from whatever rage he'd drowned in.

Shepard got down next to him, omni-tool flaring as she applied a coating of medigel to his injury. She didn't want him dying, even if he'd inadvertantly attacked her... He'd done no damage except to the ship, and that was easily repairable.

"Jack, you okay?" She asked, looking over for a split-second...

"Fine, just sore. Fuck... He's like a krogan..." The former-convict was shaking her head, amazed that all three of them were still alive.

Blade spoke once more...

"Forgive me... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." He still hadn't moved, just... Kneeling there, staring at the floor. Even with medigel, there was still a small amount of blood flowing.

Shepard sighed, still relieved to be alive. "Forget it. Make sure this doesn't happen again... Okay?"

"Forgive me... This is all my fault... I am sorry... I'm so sorry... Forgive me... Forgive me, Rachel... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." The anguish in his voice was visceral, nearly bringing a tear to Jack's eye... If not for her bruised back.

As Shepard's eyes shot wide open, she then realised something. Something big.

He wasn't apologising to her... He wasn't apologising for attacking her, or for damaging the ship... He was begging for forgiveness... Begging for his dead friend's forgiveness...

'_Rachel... Rachel Smith. She was one of the dead... Killed by the corporation that sealed him in cryo. He... Must have cared deeply for her._' Shepard recalled, having read through the report herself, just before EDI told Blade about it.

That was probably a mistake, sending him that... But he needed to know. Deserved to know. It was his life...

But it pained her to see him like this, broken, reduced to nothing but a sobbing wreck just knowing that his friend was murdered... He blames himself, seeing her death as his own fault, since the company did it just to keep their dirty secrets hidden...

He believes that if he hadn't gotten himself caught, they would never have killed them...

Survivor's guilt.

To most, that was just a phrase. To Shepard... She knew what it meant. She knew how it felt... A suffocating, burning sensation, accompanied by a vice over your heart.

After applying a second coating of medigel, she took his helmet in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye.

"Blade. Look at me."

...

He was silent... But she knew he complied.

"Take off this helmet."

Slowly, methodically... He did as she ordered, unsealing and removing it, unceremoniously dropping it to the floor...

His face was a blank mask with cheeks still wet with tears, revealed nothing... But his eyes were dead.

"Look at me." He did so, his hollow gaze boring into her bright green eyes...

"It isn't your fault, you didn't kill them. You cannot blame yourself."

...

Not even a twitch...

"You know it isn't your fault... You didn't know, and you couldn't have. There was nothing you could've done..."

Slowly... Ever so slowly, he shook his head. "I could have been stronger... If not for me... They would have lived."

"You don't know that. You can't let this break you... And I won't let you give up so easily. Everyone involved in the corporation is dead and gone, and you're no good to me if you break down like this... Now get up, and let it go. That's an order." If you just let someone sulk... They're liable to do all sorts of stupid shit, especially if there's no one else in their life. Shepard wasn't about to let that happen... He reminded her too much of herself.

"...As you wish..." Despite the wound in his side, he stood, closing his eyes and breathing in...

...When he exhaled, they reopened, and were once again filled with life.

If not for just the slightest glint of anguish... She would have almost believed it.

Shepard leaned close, breathing right in his ear, "I need you intact, and until I say otherwise...You are mine. So don't you dare do anything stupid."

"...Understood, Commander. I'll see to the ship repairs immediately."

Even though it was what she wanted... Shepard was slightly unnerved by how mechanical he sounded.

It reminded her too much of how she herself was, right after Akuze... But she had friends to look out for her, and help get back to normal. But him... He has no one. To be so completely alone... Surrounded by strangers in an even stranger world, everyone you ever knew long dead and buried... And not even knowing his own name...? He must be immeasurably strong, to be able to continue like he has without complaint.

Today he cracked, but...

Will he overcome... Or will he break?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"The only good bureaucrat is one with a pistol at his head. Put it in his hand and it's good-bye to the Bill of Rights." -American author, H. L. Mencken (1880-1956)**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Gun control: The theory that a woman found dead in an alley, raped and strangled with her pantyhose, is somehow morally superior to a woman explaining to police how her attacker got that fatal bullet wound." — L. Neil Smith


	6. Chapter 6

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#6 _**Ugh... Whatta night...**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Korlus... So this is where Okeer's hiding out. Bet their hospitality is top-notch." Garrus said, looking over the holographic map display.

"Hmph. They've got eight double-A batteries within a five-mile radius... They really don't want anyone getting in, that's for sure. Betcha they're not equipped to handle a ground assault." I remarked, looking the area over... It was a graveyard of ships, thousands of derelict wrecks littering the planet's surface. Going on foot through that is like mountainclimbing; a pain in the balls.(Or quads, in this galaxy)

I was leaning back against the guardrail of the conference room, keeping my distance from the others... After that incident last night, I'm still trying to work through my own shit. Every little thing sets my teeth on edge, my temper that much closer to breaking...

It's... Difficult, having all this anger with no one but myself to blame... Walking a razor's edge, between sanity and barbarity. Personally... I want nothing more than to see theworld _**burn...**_

But that... That is what **I** want. Shepard needs my help... And she comes first. My omnicidal rage can wait.(Looking back... I can see something wrong with that statement. But back then... It made sense. Still, omnicide is a good back-up plan)

Anyway.

"What makes you say that?" Miranda challenged, glaring. She was still angry, and I don't blame her one bit. I've been clobbered with that three-hit combo before.(Painful and somewhat humiliating, if not for the fact that we were both naked and instead of putting a knee on my chest, the woman in question straddled my crotch)

"Look at the guns themselves. Big ones, arranged around the perimiter of the area Okeer is supposed to be in. Those are for taking out large ships and smaller troop transports; anything in the air is target practice for them. For the facility itself, there's only one area for ships to land, and it's heavily fortified. Now look at the surrounding areas. They don't need a large security force; the terrain fights for them. The only smart way into that area is by air, and they've got that locked down tight. No go for ground vehicles, since there're no roads and too much debris. Going on foot through those wreckages would take hours or days, and any of the lookout towers would easily spot a large force well ahead of time. Gotta think logistically, too; if they had a lot of troops, they would need a lot of supplies. Food, water, medicine, equipment, munitions, ships coming and going every month... Bringing in cargo is a hassle, if they've got automated anti-air guns.

Then double whatever costs those supplies incure, since they're on such an obscure, out of the way planet, along with paying off supply ship captains for their silence. Then you have to think tactically. Whatever they're doing is secret, and the fewer people you let in on that secret, the safer it is. Fewer people, fewer supply trips, fewer reasons to think there's something wierd going on. The highest number of people we'll find in this entire facility is two hundred; if we're lucky, less than fifty. " Pretty obvious, to me. I know how soldiers operate.(I also know what it's like to have a budget)

...

She rolled her eyes, before throwing me a withering look. "A thorough analysis, seeing as you only spent thirty seconds looking at a _map_."(Now she's just being a bitch to be against me. THAT, I mind)

"He's right, Miranda." Shepard mediated again, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "The layout of the area fits his estimate. We'll need to fly the shuttle in from outside their range, and too low for their guns to hit us. We have any intel about who's running things down there?"

Jacob answered. "Nothing. Warlord Okeer was here, but that's all we know. Might still be, might not. We'll get answers when we get boots on the ground."

Shepard sighed. "Great, we're going in blind. Well... This isn't supposed to be a combat operation, but seeing as we don't know whether Okeer is here voluntarily, or even here at all, I'm not taking chances. Especially since we won't be able to get an emergency evac if things turn sour. Jack, I want you with me; deal with fortified enemy positions and dug-in hard targets. Garrus, you're on overwatch and lock duty again. Zaeed, bring up the rear with heavy ordinance. If all else fails, we take out one of those double-A sites and beat-feet outta there. Blade." She turned to look directly at me.

"Have your injuries healed?" She asked, subtly eyeing the spot where she'd shot me.(Now, I'd probably stab her for that. Just, ah, not with a knife. Heheh. But back then... She could've done worse and I wouldn't have cared... Not one damn bit)

"Doesn't even itch. It'll take more than a few pistol rounds if you want to kill me, Commander." Actually? It kinda stung a little, but not too bad. The undersuit had absorbed much of the impact, but didn't exactly stop the slugs. Then again, I hadn't even noticed that I'd been shot until well after-the-fact, when Jack pointed out that I was bleeding. Kinda nice of her, to say that after I'd finished spending an hour fixing that support beam. Bitch.

She smiled, returning my stare. "Good. Then you can take point and sponge a few for the rest of us, hm?"

...

" *Ghmurhuhm!* " Garrus coughed, interrupting the awkward silence that followed. "If you two are done flirting..." He continued, teasing both of us. Shepard merely rolled her eyes, shaking her head with that little smirk of hers.

I gave an Air Force salute, turning back to the map... Her coy stare was too arousing to endure.(Not to mention, her breasts... They jiggled whenever she moved. Oooogh... Intoxicating...)

Erm, anyway. I, ah, think he was just being sarcastic, but I could be wrong...

After a few more formalities, Shepard dismissed us, and I set about getting my gear ready. Got my guns and knife, but...

Into the armory, I picked up a Mantis, checking the clip count...

Full, good to go. As Jacob walked in, I had a thought.

"Oy, Jacob. Got any spray-paint?"

"...Spray-paint?"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I finally finished, looking over my handiwork...

"Nice..." Jacob whistled, appreciating the work I just put into repainting my weapons.

Now they were coloured black, grey and dark grey, along with a few occasional spots of dark, rust red in a camoflage pattern. Perfect for an operation on a planet filled with rusting shipwrecks. I'd see to my armor later.

Jacob was also kind enough to donate a new weapon.

"We just finished running these through the fabricators, with a few minor alterations. Should come in handy." He handed me a large pistol; it was bigger and less blocky than my M3...

I looked down the sights, found them to be... Acceptable. They were a wide gutter rear, with a large dot front, both lit up in the same colors as the Predator. Though the grip was more ergonomic, it used the same magazine and latch system. After holding it for a moment, my visor adjusted accordingly.

_M6 Carnifex handcannon. _

7/84.

Aha...

Just like my M45 with service mags.(I prefer the 8-rounders, but that's just me)

Heh, I like it... Heavier, more suitable as a service weapon.

Now, how to carry it...

...

Aha.

I removed the M3 on my right thigh and tacked on my new gun, then set the older one on my right calf...

It caught, folding in on itself, becoming only slightly conspicuous. Sweet, another magnetic gun lock. After checking that, I stood, just as Jacob handed me-

...Another knife, an exact replica of my own, same sheath and all.

"Figured you're the type to carry a back-up for everything."

I took it, weighing it in my hands...

Kneeling, I stuck it to my other calf, drawing it.

...

Perfect...

Sheathing, I stood. "Mr Taylor, you are a godsend."

"Don't mention it. I copied the design you made and fabricated a dozen of 'em, in case any of the others wanted a good knife. Still surprised at how well you made that first one..." I shrugged.

"Thanks, but I just made a weapon to fit my requirements. Personally, I'd fit paracord around the handle, but somehow I don't think the stuff is still around."

...

He was silent for a moment, before he dived into one of the tool boxes on that workbench...

After a moment, he pulled out a duct tape-sized spool of... Some kind of cord.

"Would this work?" He asked, pulling a strand of it out...

"Is that..." Whoa...

"Jovian cord. I guess you'd call it modern paracord; it's made from several bonded strands of carbon nanotubes and steel wire. Flexible as a thin rope, but it's nearly impossible to cut, and supports up to 20,000 pounds for a single rope."

...

"Jacob, if I ever said you couldn't possibly be any better of a person, I take that back and apply it to the current situation. I can think of a million and one uses for a rope that strong..." Heheheheheh... Oh, hells yes...

He handed me the entire spool. "Heh, thanks. Keep it with you, I've got a half dozen spools of the stuff lying around. Don't really have much need for it, unless you're building something."

...

Oh, this is going to be epic...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Still giggling to myself with a grin so creepy it'd make Jeffry Dahmer shudder, I headed through the CIC and into the elevator, taking it down to engineering.

Mwahahahahahahahaaa...

Unbreakable cord? That's thin enough to be made into a trip-wire?

Oh-ho-ho, this is going to be AWESOME.

Down in the hold, I sat down and fiddled with the cord for a few moments, thinking through a few more uses I could have for it. Twenty thousand... Wait.

...How much do I weigh? This armor doesn't _feel_ heavy, but it's gotta weigh at least an extra few hundred pounds... Hm. I remember being around two hundred, so I'd add at least an extra five hundred, so that's seven. If pressed, I could probably support the entire squad with it, rappelling down a mountain...

...Or a wrecked ship.

More time passed, and the pre-operation self doubt and second-guessing started in...

_'It's a small facility... Can't be more than two hundred... But what if there are? Only five people... A single squad, against a minimum of fifty enemy combatants, probably more. Can we handle that...?' _

We've got no evac, not unless we disable one of those guns, or haul ass out of thier range, though the wrecks and to a designated extraction LZ. I doubt we'll be able to pull that off if we've gotta carry an injured squadmate... Even lower chances of success if there are more than one wounded.

Damnit... This isn't an ideal op. We've got almost no intel, nothing confirmed, just a bloody hunch and five idiots with guns. I'm confidant in my estimate, but...

What if I'm wrong?

What if the guns are more accurate than we predict?

What if we get shot down?

Can I deal with that?

What if my own injuries slow me down? Can I count on Shepard to get me out?... Or will I be left behind...?

Sighing, I drew my knife, looking it over... Staring hard at the steel, the non-glare surface showing a dull reflection...

Seeing it, I found myself thinking back on my blackouts, and my abilities with this armor... As well as my unknown inner turmoil. '_I feel like lightning... Destructive... Unpredictable... Uncontrollable... Completely blind to where I'm headed. I feel like lightning... And down I must go._'

"Hey Blade."

I looked up and left, and found Jack standing right next to me. When did she...?

"What's with the long face?" She asked, plopping down on the rack next to me.

...

Oh. Right. My helmet's still on, and she's making a joke. "Just thinking through the mission plan... We're effectively dropping in with our dicks in our hands. Burn in blind with a five-man squad, get into the facility, look for and find Okeer, and if he's there, get him out. Then hump it to extraction, disabling one of the AA sites on our way out. Considering possible enemy numbers, between fifty and two hundred, our chances of success range from fifty-eight percent, to as little as twenty-two percent. I'm used to these odds, but still... It's unnerving, going in there knowing that evac is unlikely at best. That aside, I prefer a confirmed objective, not 'theoreticals.' If he isn't there and didn't leave a forwarding address, then we'll have wasted both time and resources, not to mention coming out empty-handed looking like a bunch of fuck-ups. IF we walk out alive."

She sighed, laying her upper body down flat on the rack. "Man, when the hell did you start playin' devil's advocate?"

...

"My job is to poke holes in my CO's plans, to try and find each and every way they can go tits-up. Then point them all out with a sarcastic tone of voice, so as to become the team's jaded, plucky comic relief character, whose seriousness can never quite be confirmed or denied."

...

"...I can't tell if you're entirely serious, or just fucking with me."

"Good, that means I'm doing my job."

"...Smartass." She playfully slapped my shoulder, sitting up with a smile on her face. "C'mon, before someone takes the best seats on the shuttle."

...I got up and followed her, sheathing my knife before pulling my rifle and checking it over as I went... I'm good to go. Let's kick some ass.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Up to the elevator, down to the cargo bay... The shuttle was ready, and Shepard was already down here, conversing with the pilot.(Still can't remember his name...)

We headed over, and Jack passed by Shepard, clapping her on the back as she went. Just as the pilot nodded, saluted and walked off, Shepard turned and called, "Blade. C'mere a minute."

"Yes?" She still wasn't wearing a helmet... I really wish she would, for her sake.

Moving closer, she quietly asked, "You holding up alright?"

"I'm fine, Commander. All systems copacetic." I responded monotonously, once again thankful for my helmet's opaque visor. I couldn't meet her eye...

"Don't lie to me, Blade." What?! How... "No matter how well you hide it, you can't fool me. I know you're strong, but even you are human under all that steel."

"...I suppose I just can't quite pull the wool over your eyes, Shepard. It still hurts... But I assure you; whatever personal issues I have, they won't interfere with the mission. My section eight can wait until after the Collectors have been dealt with." She gave me a questioning look.

"Section eight...?"

Oh. Right. "US military's designation for discharge from active duty due to being mentally unfit for service. In other words, the guys who started chewing the walls and chatting up telephone poles."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Huh. Now they refer to that as a CAT-six. You think you deserved one?"

I shrugged. "I would've been booted out of the Corps with one if not for my exemplary service. My LT said it would've been for my 'cold, distant demeanor, dark sense of humor, and anti-social tendencies,' or something along those lines. I didn't really make any friends outside of my squad, and I, ah, pissed off a good number of people. Long story. Anyway. They tried to play me off as a violent psycho who made a living as a warmonger, until my old CO stepped in and called their bluff, showing off my combat efficiency and kill count, as well as my psyche eval. See, if I was a sniper, no one would've said a word, because that's the mindset they want for those death-dealers. ...There was much apologising and kissing of my ass after the incident. Got a nifty Christmas bonus out of it, at least."

"You didn't answer my question." Damnit, she's good.

"...I honestly don't know. I can't see myself as being too insane for the job, but I know full well that I'm a sociopath. It lets me operate more efficiently, thinking things through perfectly before acting, and not allowing my emotions to affect my judgement. Still. I suppose my lack of empathy can be... Troubling, at times. Many mistake my callous and carefree nature as being unfeeling, or outright hostile. I just try to avoid interacting with people. Keeps things nice and simple, ya?" It doesn't bother me much... Likely due to my lack of empathy. Heheh.

She frowned, her kind eyes boring into mine... It took every ounce of willpower I could muster to keep from flinching. "You can't have been alone your entire life..."

Damnit... Damn her... She can read me so easily... Without even seeing my expression... "I had few close relationships... But those I held dear meant more to me than life itself. That is the drawback to having such closed-off emotions, I suppose... The few that remain are far stronger than one could ever anticipate. My squadmates were persistant, and they didn't give up on trying to become my friends. As time passed, they became my family, one could say. They knew me better than my own relatives..."

"And Rachel? She meant a lot to you, didn't she..." Shepard prompted,

I felt as though a vice was crushing my heart... It took all I had to keep my voice steady. "...More than you could ever know. She... Was the closest friend I had. An unparalleled sniper, she was one of the kindest people I knew... And someone I would give anything to bring back. I suppose in a more fair world... We would have been lovers. She didn't deserve her fate... None of them did." I caught myself smiling, remembering some of the more fond memories I had of her... We just... Clicked, I suppose.

She was the only person in my squad I trusted upon our first meeting; the others were nothing but cannon fodder to me, until I got to know them. We got up to so much trouble together... And saved each other's ass more times than I could count. We were partners; it was never just 'Wolf' or 'Fiver' but always 'Wolf and Fiver.' Her callsign was Fiver, since Schmitty bet her five bucks that she couldn't take the balls off a terrorist setting a roadside bomb from nine hundred yards. Well, unfortunately for that poor bastard, she took that as a challenge. I feel more sorry for his three buddies next to him at the time, who got splattered with testiular gore. Eugh. Talk about balls in your face.(PS; this was a comic refrence)

"You two weren't together?" Shepard asked, looking puzzled as she leaned back against the shuttle.(Kodiak, it was called. Or combat cockroach, as others called it. Fitting nickname)

"No... She'd always been more interested in the fairer sex. Upon learning that, I dropped the matter. I didn't want to put our friendship in jeopardy for my own selfish desires." Shrugging, I rolled my shoulders and cracked my knuckles. Not much longer till we hit the facility...

"That's... Well. I never would've thought you were the selfless type... To suffer in silence for the wellbeing of others. I guess this is the first time you've even mentioned that, huh?" Well, she didn't taunt me over it, so I don't have to stab her. Yay.

"...We're moving out soon, aren't we, Commander?" I asked, less than enthused about being psychoanalysed by her.

She was quiet for a moment...

"Yes, we are. But keep yourself alive; we're not finished with this conversation."

"Understood, Shepard."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Within minutes, we were aboard the shuttle, and there was a deep rumbling throughout the ship...

"_We're entering Korlus' atmosphere now, Commander. Drop-off in six mikes._" Joker's voice came through on our comms,(I'd linked my suit to Shepard and co's communications earlier) and Shepard signalled the pilot. He started up the shuttle, as the lot of us took our seats in the microscopic interior, trying desperately not to dump ourselves in each others' lap.

The door to the cockpit shut, and Shepard dropped into the seat next to me with a sigh, pulling on a helmet.(Finally! I guess my mental urgings finally got through to her)

After fitting and sealing it, she said, "The one thing I hate about space travel is re-entry..."

"Mm. I'm not much of a fan of flying either," I responded, checking the seal of my suit. "But then again, I'm the idiot that spent half his career jumping out of perfectly serviceable aircraft. I don't think I'm very qualified to have an opinion on it."

Shepard giggled, replying, "Eheheh, well, there isn't much of that, these days. Orbital-drop helljumpers haven't been in service for the last twenty years or so."

...

"ODST? Orbital-drop shock troopers?" I asked, blinking.

"Yeah, why?"

...

"Well, son of a dick... Someone's a bloody Halo fan around here." I shook my head, groaning. Someone's laughing it up, somewhere...

"...Halo?"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Our shuttle was launched from the Normandy shortly after our conversation, and Shepard was giving directions to the pilot. I checked over my gear once again, eager to keep my hands moving...

It's a nervous habit. If I stay still too long, I just...

Too much time to think needlessly. If I keep myself busy, I focus, and people don't notice I'm unwell. I'm not fine... As Shepard said, no matter how well I hide it, my mind isn't focused...

C'mon... Breathe in, breathe out...

Worry only about what you can control. Anything else can go fuck itself.

Within moments, my Carnifex was completely disassembled before me, my hands moving on their own...

I... Don't know how many times I did that, stripping, checking, reassembling and repeating the process...

"...Ade."

...

"Blade."

I blinked, looking up. Shepard was next to me... I hadn't even noticed her hand on my shoulder.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Though I could only see her eyes, they were creased with worry.

"...I'm fine. How long until we reach the dropoff?" I asked, pulling my sidearm back together within seconds, tacking it back to my thigh.

"...Two minutes." After a moment, she responded... She was still looking me over, and I noticed the others doing the same.

Getting to my feet, I moved closer to the hatch, suppressing the urge to start pacing... That's another of my damned habits, the impulse to pace back and forth... It helps me think clearly, distracting my body, setting it on autopilot while my mind wanders...

C'mon...

C'mon, damnit! Hurry the hell up...

Those agonizing minutes passed... And the shuttle levelled off, hovering in place. The pilot called back, "We're here! I'll move further back and go on standby. Gimme a heads-up when you're ready for extraction!"

The hatch opened...

I didn't even look, I jumped out, reflexively somersaulting as I went, landing on one knee, M6 in my hand as I sweeped it left and right...

"Clear!" I shouted as I got back to my feet, looking back and forth, checking behind me as I went... The entire area was covered in a shadow of darkness, not even a moon to light up the surface. Perfect for a nighttime operation...

It was a good fifteen-foot drop from the shuttle, which Shepard and the others took more carefully than I did. When they were on the ground, the shuttle took off, flying low and heading in the opposite direction... After a moment, nothing but faint lights could be seen.

But the way we were facing...

It was the facility... Massive, built in and around the wreckage of a crashed dreadnought. No searchlights, so hopefully they haven't spotted us. Still...

Holstering my sidearm, I drew my Avenger, checking the chamber before checking my surroundings...

A plateau... Below us were hundreds of wreckages... Better be careful not to fall. Only way forward is directly ahead... I spoke quietly, "Activate nightvision."

In a split-second, everything was bathed in a green hue... But I could see.

Rusting steel everywhere... Ground is a mix of gravel, loose sediment, concrete and steel plating. Less than ideal for effective noise discipline.

"Blade. You're on point."

Nodding, I started forward, checking left, right, high and low as I went...

"Lights out. Watch your footing; a fall around these parts will leave you with more than a few broken bones... And keep an eye out for traps, gravel is perfect for anti-personnel mines." Check left, right, high...

I saw it in the distance. "Watchtower ahead... Don't think they've seen us yet. If any of you have nightvision, use it. Thermal, as well."

I checked behind me...

Headshakes all around. Damnit. Sighing, I looked at Shepard. "Well, that's just great. No shots unless they shoot first. We just might be able to get through this without even confronting the enemy. You've all had night-op and stealth training, I hope?"

...

Shepard nodded, as did Garrus and Zaeed. Jack?

"...Nope."

Fuck.

"Okay... Watch where you step, try to make as little noise as possible, and whatever happens, stay in the shadows. The human eye is drawn to movement, light, and reflective surfaces. Avoid those things, and you'll be invisible. Keep low, keep to cover, and stay out of the light. Beyond that, stay close, be smart, and do as I do. And... As an added precaution, avoid using the radios unless necessary, on the off-chance that the enemy is listening in. You guys got all that?" I was used to this... I had to bring a bunch of FNGs up to speed but-quick before, so this was no different.

Jack rolled her eyes, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. And why aren't we just blasting our way in?"

Zaeed snorted a laugh. "You ever hear that the best operation is one where you never meet the enemy? I'd rather get this over without getting shot, thank you."

"I agree. The fewer bullets thrown our way, the better." Garrus threw in, looking in the direction of the watchtower.

Again, Jack rolled her eyes. "And here I thought you guys were a bunch of badasses."

"It takes a real badass to be able to walk into enemy territory, complete his objective, kill a bunch of folks, and walk out unharmed. Even more of a BAMF to do so without anyone even knowing he's there." I pointed this out, as I moved a bit further ahead, checking around a corner...

Wide open area... A few scattered pieces of scrap metal here and there, but it offered little in the way of concealment. Hmm...

I can see the watchtower a good eighty metres away... Back of said area. Dunno if I could get that far without being spotted...

Near the top of it, I spotted a camera. Waiting a beat, it moved... Right to left, narrow angle focused-lens. Used to supplement guards... Got a seven-second window of opportunity to move from where I am to a piece of cover, wait three seconds, then dash the rest of the way up, passing under the camer's angle of view.. Hmm...

"Alright... Enemy watchtower in sight. Two cameras, both night vision and infrared spectrum. Unknown number of sentries inside..."

Hmm...

"You have a plan?" Shepard asked, as Zaeed turned and checked behind us again.

"Yes... But it's not garunteed. The cameras may be automated, without a terminal inside that can disable them. They may also have motion sensors... Seeing the layout, booby-traps are unlikely. I'll know for certain once I'm inside. For now, I want all of you to wait here quietly. I'll radio you if I get inside."

"And if you don't?" I cast my gaze back at the Commander...

"...Then you'll hear the alarms blaring just before the lead starts flying."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I moved back to the corner, peeking out and checking the camera...

Timing here is key...

Sevon seconds...

Starting...

NOW!

I dashed out of cover, doubled over and tear-assing across the hundred-some feet between the squad and my first cover-point.

Four...

Three...

Two...!

O-

I made it, slamming my back against the remnants of the wing of a fighter, forcing my body to go deathly still...

I waited... Counted off to three and a half, then rounded the wing, sprinting across the remaining hundred-twenty feet...

Ninety-seven to the camera's blindspot.

It was slowly rotating...

Two seconds left...

One...

I made it, diving into a roll that sent me the last eight feet into the blindspot, rolling into a crouch, looking up at the camera...

...It kept moving, oblivious to my presence. Alright.

I allowed myself a small smirk, staying crouched as I moved up to the wall of the tower...

Once against it, I sidled around, searching for the door... Got it. Double-sliding hatch, holographic-Er, haptic console showing it was locked. Hmm...

I could bust in pretty easy, but...

...

I looked up the tower's side, where a large window roughly sixty feet up allowed whoever was inside to see out around them, and use the tower as a nifty sniping position. Grinning wickedly, I remembered my old training...

Now, I just need a pair of-

...

Oh, this is just perfect...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Man, that dumbass is gonna get himself caught, I just know it..." Jack muttered, still annoyed about having to stand around in the freezing darkness, waiting. She suppressed another shiver, looking around. She wasn't a very patient person.

Shepard sighed, sidling over to the corner, carefully peeking out...

...

She pulled back, a wry smile etched into her striking features as she let out a low chuckle.

"What is it?" Garrus asked, figuring it had to be something amusing.

"Blade is a man of many talents... He's scaling the tower with just a pair of knives."

...

"Somehow, I get the feeling he was more of an assassin than a soldier..." The turian grunted, shaking his head.

"That would fit right well... He's a damn good shot, and an expert on hand-to-hand. Shepard, would that be a good or bad thing for your mission?" Massani was still facing the opposite direction, keeping an eye out for patrols.

"I don't know... He's lived the life of a soldier and he sure as hell acts like one, so it doesn't really matter. If he's been specially trained to kill people for a living, all the better for us. We need every skilled fighter we can get at this point, which is why we're here to recruit a krogan warlord with more enemies than any of us could count in a lifetime." The three of them nodded their consent, while both Shepard and Jack were both thinking hard about the mystery cloaked in an enigma, slathered in secret sauce, and strapped to a ticking fucking time-bomb that was the man they knew as Blade.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Hmm...

I was hanging from one of my knives, right next to the window in question; it was regular glass, three and a half feet high by four feet wide. More than big enough to make an entrance.

Now I just needed something to see how many contacts are inside...

_High-frequency electrolocation and infrared engaged. _Words scrolled across my visor again.

...Huh?

Whoa!

My vision changed again...

Two seperate filters overlapped, one showing everything in black and grey, with outlines showing everything out to a good hundred feet... The other was in dark indigo, with dark red and orange shapes...

...

Electrolocation... Pulses of energy sent out, that go through materials and get a vague outline of an environment, as well as all moving objects and living creatures within range... While the infrared detects heat out to two hundred yards. Holy shit...

I can see _through_ the tower walls, and...

...Three guards... Two sitting at consoles, the third on his feet at a table, bringing something hot to his face.

Hmm...

Can I...

...Yeah, I can.

Okay... One... Two...

THREE!

I swung myself back, then crashed through the window headfirst, rolling when I hit the floor, coming to a stop in a crouch.

In that instant, the knife I'd just ripped out of the wall I threw straight at the standing guard. I didn't bother checking if it was a hit; I was already dashign for the other two, who were just jumping to their feet, one desperately reaching for his console...

Too late. I crossed the six feet in an instant, the first guy, a turian, catching my fist in his faceplate, cracking/shattering it and smashing him into the computer he'd been sitting at, while my other hand was busy ramming my knife through the back of the other guy's skull, helmet and all.

...

I breathed out, and just as I thought to deactivate my enhanced vision...

It went back to normal, bathing the entire room in white light... Grey metal and red-brown rust was the color scheme of the tower's interior. It had been made from salvaged parts, at a guess. The one console was smashed completely, the turian on the floor, barely breathing...

He was wearing Blue Suns armor. Well, at least I don't have to feel sorry for killing them. Say...

I looked over to the other dead bastard, who was on the floor with a pool of blood spreading out around him...

Huh. I walked over and yanked my knife out of his corpse, sheathing it.(I'd sheathed the other one automatically)

Now... Time to see about those cameras...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"_Boss, the cameras are down and the door's open. Get your asses up here lickity-split, I don't trust waiting around here for too long._" Blade's voice came through on the comm, and Shepard nodded, moving up with the others close behind.

Inside the tower, they found two bodies dropped in a corner, with a third guard still alive with his face looking... Well, worse than Garrus'. His arms were tied behind him, and Blade was right next to him with his sidearm levelled at the turian's head.

"Oy. Sleeping beauty here got lucky; any of you wanna wake him up and ask a few questions before I toss him out the window?"

Jack snorted a laugh, reduced to fits of snickering while Shepard rolled her eyes. She couldn't tell if Blade was being entirely serious, or if his sense of humor was coming out to play.

"Ah, I think I'd better handle that..." Garrus moved over, holstering his rifle and kneeling to get a better look at the conked-out guard in question.

"...Did you say he got lucky? Just what did you hit him with, rebar? The butt of your gun?" Zaeed was giving the injury an odd look, keeping his distance.

"Hm? No, I just punched him in the face. Think his helmet kept his skull intact."

...

"...Remind me never to go drinking with you." The turian snarked, making Shepard groan.

"Come on, Vakarian, you made that joke two years ago..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

A short while later...

"Auugh... Agh... Ma fashe..."

"Heya, sleeping beauty. Welcome back to the land of the living." Darrod looked up, his mandibles twitching.

In front of him was the armored monster that had killed Jerome and Michael in seconds, sounding happy as ever.

"You... You bosh'teh!" He tried to snarl, sounding more like a strained squeek.

The armored human chuckled, as a turian he didn't recognised leaned down into his field of view.

"Ah-ah, it's not smart to provoke the guy who knocked you clean out with a single punch. Now, just to set the record straight, we didn't come here to kill you. But if you don't cooperate, my friend here is going to get... Creative. And last I checked, he has a few knives, lengths of jovian cord, and a perfectly placed window to drop you out of, hanging from your genitals. You understand your position, yes?" The turian was beaming, happily making threats that would make a krogan shudder.

Darrog gulped, as the armored human held up a spool of jovian cord snapping a long length of it taut. Darrod couldn't help a sob that escaped his throat...

Not one of the people in the room blamed him.

...On the bright side, he'd gone and taken a dump not fifteen minutes ago, so at least he hadn't soiled his armor. Gotta keep looking on the bright side...

...Even if it's just knowing that there's a good chance he'd be able to jump out the window headfirst before they could start peeling his plates off.

"...Mommy."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Gun control: The theory that a woman found dead in an alley, raped and strangled with her pantyhose, is somehow morally superior to a woman explaining to police how her attacker got that fatal bullet wound." — L. Neil Smith

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Here I sit, brokenhearted; tried to shit, and only farted."**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**HELLO! Can YOU spot the video game refrence in this chapter? **_


	7. Chapter 7

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#7 _**Insert Pun-Based Title Here -**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard shivered as she watched Blade and Garrus meticulously extract information from the Blue Suns mercenary. Garrus asked the questions, Blade worked him over when he refused to comply.

...The way he calmly inflicted pain was... Disturbing. Slowly, carefully, thoroughly...

The way he normally acted was nothing like the way he is now... Sarcastic, happy-go-lucky, humorous, flirtacious, sardonic... But now... No hesitation, no second thoughts, and no sympathy. He never made a sound, except to ask Garrus to stop him from inflicting any potentially lethal injuries, since he was unfamiliar with turian physiology.

It was... Unsettling, watching him work. From breaking fingers and toes, slowly stabbing through a joint here and there, and litterally ripping teeth out to slowly peeling plates from an arm or leg, the moment Darrod(Their unfortunate turian prisoner) didn't answer, gave the wrong answer, or so much as hesitated in the least, Blade inflicted a measured amount of pain... Usually enough to have the man screaming.

Through it all, there was a sense of composure about him... He was used to this sort of thing, she was sure. After forty minutes, half of which Darrod had spent sobbing, Garrus had no further questions to ask, and no more information needed.

Blade simply looked to Garrus and nodded, reaching down and grabbing the bleeding turian by his neck...

And swiftly stabbed a knife through the side of his skull and twisted. His entire body jerked, before going limp... Within a second, his other hand came up, and he forcefully twisted Darrod's head around, until a loud, wet snapping sound was heard. After sheathing his knife, Blade tossed the body aside, wiping the indigo blood on the front of his armor.

Out of all the people in the room, only Shepard was surprised in the least. "What was that for? He was no threat to any of us." Though she already knew what he was going to say.

"I left him alive to answer our questions, and after, he was no use to us. If we had let him live, he might somehow raise the alarm. As far as I'm concerned, he was as dead as the other two; just took longer to stop breathing." His voice... It was mechanical, blunt, and emotionless. Nothing like his normal self... Or is this normal, while the other is...

"I know that, but still..." It's just... To be so callous... To kill an unarmed, injured enemy without hesitation like that...

"Shepard. You are a soldier; I've personally seen you kill dozens in combat without hesitation. As soldiers, we cannot allow misplaced sympathy to cloud our judgement. An enemy is an enemy, regardless of the circumstances. I agree with the sentiment, but hypocrisy like that will get you killed someday."

Zaeed interrupted them before Shepard could reply. "Could you have this philisophical debate later? We've still got a job to do."

Shepard nodded, pulling up a map of the facility on her omni-tool. "Right. We've got what we need; we'll push on along this route, and..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Exiting the tower, we moved through the wrecks littering the planet's surface, ducking in and out of rusting heaps of scrap; we avoided dozens of lookout towers, patrols and other security measures as we went, heading for one of the seldom-used rear entrances of the facility. Getting there was a bitch, since the others kept tripping over shit and cursing when they did so, nearly giving our position away several times.

Times like this reminded me of the good old days... Well, the ones I can remember. My squad had gone through plenty of ops like this one; dropped in with a vague idea of what we're supposed to do, a fifteen-year-old map of the area, some guns, and a picture of someone we're supposed to shoot.

...Yeah, that's about it. Just like old times.

Heheh.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Once we arrived at the place, we were surprised to find no cameras watching. Huh.

The five of us stacked up on the door, while Garrus got to work on the panel; he was the most technically gifted of the group, and was the one we trusted to open doors, hack consoles, rig up electronics, AND perform the duties of a sniper. He was talented, I give him that.

He worked on the door console for a solid minute, quietly muttering curses to himself all the while. "This tech is ancient... Someone tried to half-assedly retrofit it with newer security algorythms, the bosh'tet... Agh, what a pain in my ass..."

I was still scanning our rear, looking for anything out of place... I was feeling anxious, sitting right outside the door with our asses hanging out, just waiting for someone to come along.

Another half-minute passed...

"Garrus... You got an ETA? I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't like sitting here with our asses hanging out."

He shook his head, exasperation in his voice. "I don't like it either... But this damned lock is a... How do you humans put it? A cast-iron bitch. Worse than that time I had to help Tali repair her suit back on Noveria..."

Shepard groaned. "Don't remind me... That was an incident I'd rather not remember."

...?

Okay...

Another minute and a half, before the sound of electricity crackling made us jump, as Garrus jumped back from the console, biting back curses as he shook out his hands. "Fuck, fuck, shit... Agh, damnit..."

...Then we heard the door slide open.

"...I swear, one of my ancestors has a sense of humor..."

Shepard nudged him in the side, smiling. "Could be worse. I don't hear any-"

I clapped a hand over her mouth, fiercely whispering, "Shh! Shut up, before you trigger Murphy's Law!"

...We all started chuckling quietly, filing into the facility just as it started to rain...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Perfect timing..." The Commander remarked, glancing back outside, where it was just pissing down raining.

"Aye... And to think, we'll have to go back through that in just a little bit. Fuck. Well, at least the AA guns will have a tougher time trying to shoot down the shuttle." I said, looking back outside, then around the entryway we were in. Rusting steel from wrecked ships, but it was solid and kept us out of the rain. Flourescent lighting lined the ceiling and along the floor, lighting it up perfectly. Hm.

Nods of agreement all around as we started for the other door in the room.

It opened for us automatically, into another hallway, this one significantly larger... Hmm.

"First, we grab someone and find out where Okeer is, then we get him and get out. Preferably WITHOUT getting shot at." Shepard ordered, checking left and right...

I did the same,(Looking and checking, not ordering) before tacking my rifle to my back and drawing my sidearm in one hand, knife in the other. Much better for these tight quarters... Especially if someone happens to walk up on us.

We have two options... Left and right. Shepard made a snap decision. "Two routes... Alright. We'll split up to cover more ground; Garrus, take Blade and head right. Keep each other safe, and try not to set off any alarms. Radio me if you find anything. Jack, Zaeed, on me; we're going left."

The turian and I nodded, heading for the right-side of the hall without looking back. I took left side of the door, he took right; we were in the blind spots of anyone on the other side, and I glanced through...

"Clear." I stepped inside, gun raised, steadied atop my knife-hand. Three-way hall... Straight or left. Left has stairs... Front has another door.

"Go left." Garrus stated, already moving. I moved ahead, checking the area for hostiles, deeming it clear and maintaining my position as point man.

He moved ahead of me and up the stairs, then up a second flight and into another hallway on the second story. Garrus stopped at the top, peeking left and right before muttering a curse.

"Damnit... Okeer's either a prisoner or a volunteer... So where would he be..."

I, too, was thinking along similar lines... We entered the rear, went right, then left and and double-right back to facing-

"Left... We'll move closer to the center of the facility. There's bound to be some poor schmuck we can grill along the way." I suggested, and the turian sniper nodded.

"Good point... Left it is."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Down the hall, through the door and two more halls, changing directions once again. That's when we found our mark...

Lone guard; human, no weapon, Blue Suns armor. Heheheheheh...

Garrus and I shared a look, and I said, "Ten credits says I can break him in thirty seconds without inflicting injury." I'd found out that the most commonly accepted intergalactic currency is the credit; s'worth something similar to the British pound or thereabouts.

"You're on." We quietly snuck up behind the poor sod, and jumped him.

I gabbed him round the collar and slammed him against the nearby wall, jamming the barrel of my gun against his throat,(He was wearing a helmet) the point of my knife pressing against his crotch.

"You are going to tell me everything I want to know, or I am going to gut you alive from scrotum to sternum. Do I make myself clear?"

I couldn't see his face, but judging by his eyes, he was freaking out. "Y-y-yes!"

...Oh, good. A spineless idiot. Sweet. Garrus was muttering curses behind me, something about me cheating. Heheh.

"Where is Warlord Okeer?"

The guy blinked. "The old krogan...? He's in the research lab..."

"And where is that, pray tell?" I hate when they don't give decent directions...

"Through this hall, up the next two sets of stairs, cut through the scaffolding to save a five minute trek, hang a left at the busted cannon, go up the big flights of stairs, through the morgue and take the third door on your right." He blurted out, almost too fast.

. . .

Well, that ain't real fuckin' complicated, now is it?

Before I could speak, ***AHN-AHN-AHN-AHN!*** A siren blared, and I glared at my captive. Fuck. I glanced at Garrus, who I swear, had this look of 'Come the hell on...' on his face.

"W-w-w-WASN'T ME! I SWEAR!" The guy screamed, wrapping his hands over his crotch. Fucking lovely...

"_The krogan are escaping! All personnel to combat stations!_" An overbearing feminine voice sounded over loudspeaker, telling us what's going on. I think.

"...Multiple krogan? You have five seconds, boy." I growled, digging my gun into his neck...

"O-OKEER'S TEST SUBJECTS! I DON'T KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING! H-HE'S NOT CURING THE GENOPHAGE, THAT'S ALL I KNOW!"

...Oh. Okay.

"Very well. Sweet dreams."

"What?"

He blinked, dumbfounded for a moment, before I drove my knee into his nuts and socked him in the gut. ...I hit him pretty hard, too. I felt his armor crack and fingers break.

*...Thumpk.* He fell to the floor, unmoving

"Nice." Garrus remarked, shaking his head with what I thought was a smirk.

"Thanks, but we're in the shit now." I subconsciencely activated my radio, calling out, "Shepard, we've found Okeer's location; he's inside the research labs. We'll meet you there. I don't know what's going on exactly, but they apparently still don't know we're here just yet. I reccommend you use that and the chaos going on to get there without confrontation."

"_Copy that, we've reached the same conclusion. Some kind of experiment is going on with Okeer heading it, involving genophage research. Watch yourselves, and focus on getting to Okeer's position alive. Stay quiet if you can, but go loud if necessary. Shepard out._" Her voice came back through our comms, and we both nodded, turning and jogging through the halls, heading in the direction the guard had outlined. I don't think he'd been lying, anyway...

"Say Garrus, what the hell's a genophage?" I asked, as we moved through the halls.

"Biological sterility plague my race and the salarians deployed on the krogan some thousand years ago, during the krogan rebellions. Kept their population in check and ended the war." Huh.

"Well, I guess that explains why all krogan have such nasty dispositions..." They lived for a thousand years, I'd heard; just like the Asari. Eesh, hella time to hold a grudge. Then again, a single lifetime is nothing when you're talking about a doomsday weapon...

Eh. Not my problem.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"*Huff... Huuh... Hoo...* Damn... This is... A lot... Of stairs..." Garrus was panting just behind me, as we jogged up several flights of stairs.

SEVERAL.

Meaning, around eight or nine double flights. Crap, that's a lotta stairs... Plus we'd been running earlier, too. Damnit, this is a waste...

"Just think of it like this; It'll be a lot easier going back down these on our way back." I joked, rounding the next flight.

"Very... Funny..." He grit out, panting.

"Heheh, I thought it was." That's me, snarky as ever.

"Smart...Ass..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"_Blade! Garrus! Where are you two?!_" Shepard's voice shouted through the radio, just as we cleared the last step.

"Just cleared the stairs, Shepard, ETA three minutes. You guys alright?" I replied, turning to watch as Garrus huffed and puffed up the last flight... He was right. Turians aren't made for distance running. Or sprinting.

"_We're under attack in the labs! Get here quick, and get your helmets on! Jedore released a toxic gas to kill Okeer!_"

Ahhh, shit.

I glanced down to Garrus... "I... Hate... This... Place..." He was just getting to the top, panting hard, doubled over.

"Turians really aren't made for distance running, huh?" I beamed, smiling as I offered my hand.

...He gave me a halfhearted glare as he took it. "Smartass..."

"Better than being a dumbass. C'mon, time to be big damn heroes."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

We busted down the door to the lab, helmets on, guns up.

"Clear!" I shouted, rushing forward...

Big room, huge window on the right side. Door at the end. A siren blared in my helmet, alerting me that the area is flooded with toxic gasses... Big ass tank with a krogan inside it was next to said window, and by it, a console...

With a bigger krogan lying next to it, dead. Fuck.

I moved to the window, looking through...

Down below, I could see a massive firefight going on down below...

To the left, I spied Shepard, hunkered down with Jack and Zaeed behind large tanks. All three were wearing helmets or masks of some sort.

A handfull of krogan in the mix, firing on both sides. Huh.

And on the far right, I saw a woman wearing Blue Suns armor, with some kinda blue field around it... She was accompanied by a pair of heavy YMIR mechs. Fucking lovely.

Garrus moved up next to me, looking down below...

"Damnit... Why can't anything ever be easy..." I heard him muttering, putting his rifle against his shoulder.

"Heh, 'cuz that wouldn't be entertaining. Set up here, I'll drop down and mix things up a little. Aim for the bitch, that damned loudspeaker is starting to piss me off." Gun in hand, I stepped back...

"Wait, you're not going to-"

Too late. I dashed forward jumping and dived through the gla-

*WHUMPK!*

...

I bounced off and landed hard on the floor in a heap, as Garrus busted out laughing.

Oh, that fucking does it...

I got to my feet, vision greying out as I raised my M6, and started firing...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

***PIOWNG!***

Shepard ducked down again, cursing as she felt another round deflect off her shoulder. Damnit, those thing hurt...

"Rrrgh... Where are those two..." She muttered, just as she heard a crash. Glancing behidn her, she saw...

Blade, flying through the air, gun in one hand, knife in the other, flipping as he fell...

***Ker-KtchANG!***

And landed on one knee, dashing between krogan, shoving them out of his way, and making a beeline for the heavy mechs...

That... Fucking dumbass...

Jedore was freaking out on the other side of the room, seeing the crazy fucker running right at her and the mechs. "K-kill him! KILL HIM! Ki-" ***POWFHL...*** A single shot rang out, and her head exploded in a spray of gore and red mist...

Glancing up, Shepard saw Garrus in the window, raising an arm to wave at her. Heh, show-off...

Tossing a quick wave his way, she turned and fired back at the krogan that remained, before noticing something...

Most were no longer interested in her and her squad...

No... they were watching with interest as Blade litterally ripped the head off one of the mechs, his armor glowing once more. Jumping off, he made a mad dash for the other mech, moving too quickly to be human... No...

He moved more like an animal... Like a wolf... down low, juking left and right, avoiding the mech's guns with ease, overwhelming his enemy with agility and speed, before delivering a lethal attack to its weakest point. He latched onto the YMIR's chest, wrapping an arm around its neck, tossing his weapon aside and raising an omni-blade.

"Whoa..." Jack whispered, staring with wide eyes watching as Blade litterally started hacking away at the mech's armored head and neck, ripping out its internals, wiring, circuits and plating flying, until the machine finally shut down and fell backward. That's when he stood, turning to observe...

There were maybe fifteen krogan in the room, but every one of them...

They got down on their knees, silently praising the human before them... It was a sight Shepard had never before seen, one that rattled her...

He stepped off the destroyed mech, retrieving his pistol and holstering it, the lights on his armor fading away. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck and started towards her, when one of the krogan stood, approaching him, holstering his weapon.

They spoke, quietly... Blade nodded, replying, but... Shepard couldn't make out what they were saying. It was strange... The krogan respected him, for some reason. For his strength, his destructive prowess...? Or... For something else...?

"The fuck are they doing...?" Jack muttered, with Zaeed having the very same expression.

"I don't know..." She responded, starting to get anxious...

After a few more moments of discussion, the krogan nodded and turned to his brethen, waving them on as he walked out, the assembled krogan following behind him. Blade then came over, and Shepard was sure he was grinning like a crazy bastard.

"Miss me?"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

They spent a good hour and a half getting the krogan-filled tank out of the facility, and even longer getting it through the debris to their extraction point. Needless to say, everyone was a little annoyed by that point, so they all dropped the damned thing in the shuttle and sat down.

The ride back to the Normandy was silent... No one said a word. But most everyone was staring at Blade out of the corners of their eyes, watching him carefully... He hadn't said a word about the incident, waving them off.

...That was what had Shepard worried.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The shuttle docked, and we filed out, a quick decon-routine done on our way to the elevator. Shepard called down a few crewman, one of which was pushing a large cart of some sort that floated some six inches off the floor. For the tank, I suppose. Shepard moved past the three crewmen, calling as she went, "Just... Drop him in the port cargo hold, I'll deal with him later."

Stepping into the elevator with Zaeed, Jack, and Garrus, she threw me a pointed look...

Hm... It seems she hasn't forgotten about our... Conversation. Damn.

I sighed, and hung back to help the crewmen. This damned tank was a bitch to get on-board, and it's going to be just as much of a bitch to get off. Fuck.

Seeing it, the three of them groaned, as did the pilot, who conveniently ran off for a piss break, before I moved past them, gripped the corners and pulled, dragging the big-ass thing closer to the hatch.

It was... Fucking heavy. Argh, what a pain in the ass...

This fucker better be worth this shit, damnit...

After a slightly strenuous drag, I turned to direct the crewmen to position the cart, when I caught their expressions.

Jaws hanging, eyes bulging, and tongues lolling.

...I think they were surprised.

"...Did I grow a second head that I'm unaware of, gentlemen?"

Jaws were retrieved from the floor, amongst muttered curses and ramblings.

"Fuckin' final level..."

"And I thought the krogan was _INSIDE_ the tank..."

"Man... No wonder Lawson get her ass handed to her..."

...

Hey, I'm strong. So sue me.

Took some finegling, but I tilted the tank back, and gently lowered it onto that cart for the boys. After hopping on the elevator and taking it up a floor, they huffed and puffed it into the port cargo, where I oh-so-generously helped them tip it back, and set it straight.

"Thanks, Blade."

"S'nothin'." And just like that, they were gone. Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck, glancing at the tank...

'_Huh... I know just how ya feel, big guy..._' I was... Tempted, to hit the release and let him out. But... Something compelled me to wait, to allow Shepard to make that decision.

Though what exactly it was that changed my mind, I've no idea. I tried to think on that, but...

Somehow... Everything else, no, ANYthing else just seemed far more important...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shaking those thoughts from my mind, I... Couldn't recall what it was that I was so interested in. Huh.

Well, whatever. Figure I'll head down and catch a quick nap... Or maybe see if I can't do a little more reading without going berserk.

Down to the hold I went, when I caught Jack having a... Personal moment. Or intimate moment, whichever you would prefer. In a rather compromising position.(Very compromising, indeed)

Blinking back surprise and arousal, I couldn't help but stare. I mean, really, I couldn't.(...Call it a cockjerk reaction. Heheh, zing)

She was laid out on the rack, trousers and-

...Dark purple panties. Huh.

Ahem. Both around her ankles, knees bent, one hand furiously working her heat, the other cupped around one of her miniscule breasts,(Tiny. An A-cup for certain. But still, somehow appealing) her trademark belts pushed up and out of the way.

. . .

Has she spotted me yet? No. But she will soon. Very soon.

Options; One. Turn around, walk away, pretend I saw nothing.

**FOCK THAHT, **Said my boner, sounding vaguely like Sean Connery...

Two. Watch, mayhaps take pictures. If I can figure out how to do so... Aha, omni-tool. Ooh. Video.

Three. Walk over, offer to lend a hand/cock/tongue. Preferable. Much more preferable. My penis agrees.

Four. Run back upstairs, grab Ken, direct him down here, pull Gabby along with a camera for laughs, and watch the fireworks. Mr P says that's funny enough to make it worth the loss of what HAS to be a damn good lay.

...Oh-so tempting... Just to see what happens...

Eheheheheheh. Y'know, I think I'll do just that...

"AH!"

Jack shot up into a sitting position, knees to her chest, doing her best to cover herself with a fierce blush.(Only about two and a half seconds have passed since I noticed her, by the way. I think fast)

...Damage control. Damage control, damnit! **Get to it, lad, before she bricksh meh two besht mahtes!**

"...Want me to come back in an hour, or lend a hand?"

The look on her face was priceless, to say the least.

When she didn't answer for a solid six seconds, I moved closer, keeping my eyes locked on her own, watching for signals of an imminent attack...

**Thaaat'sh a good lad... Careful, wahtch those bootsh! **

She muttered something, but I didn't quite catch it...

"Hm?"

She looked up, not quite meeting my eyes, still biting her lip just a little. "...Would you? It's... Been awhile."

I nodded, kneeling next to the rack. "You're not the only one. Century and a half."

"Right... But take off the armor. I want to feel skin, not steel."

Smirking, I reached up, removing my helmet, and setting it aside... Eye contact was made, but not a word was said...

None were needed.

Because in that instant, libidos peaked, passions flared, and instinct took over as she wrapped an arm around my neck, crashing her lips to mine, my body falling back into old habits... Muscle memory, routines that had been burned into my mind.

**Aw, fock yea!**

Though I may not necessarily recall whom I had been with... I remember what they liked.(And to some degree, all women enjoy being fondled during intercourse. Big difference is which buttons to push, how hard, and when)

**[Cue Music; Two Sides of Me, by Hinder; Album, All American Nightmare]**

**...Who the bloody fockin' 'ell turned on thish rubbish? Wheresh the bagpipesh, for onshe!**

We didn't break apart, even as I began removing my armor, piece by piece... She was trying to help, undoing the latches by feel, shuffling out of her own clothing at the same time.

Everything was starting to go fuzzy... My mind going blank. It... Wasn't unpleasant.

Once the armor was off... I felt strange, like I'd removed a limb, even... Something I couldn't quite feel, but I knew it was gone. I paid that feeling no mind, instead focusing on the woman in front of me. All other thoughts were already gone...

Nothing mattered, but the girl in my arms...

Nothing... Nothing at all...

**Agh, quit yer blubberin'! Damned romanticsh...**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**I don't NEED to tell you this, but hey. Sexual content! Here there be monsters! Be warned! LEMON!**_

_**...One with a purpose. Heheh.**_

"Ah- Hahhn..." Jack moaned as my hands caressed her most intimate parts, pulling her closer, overtop of myself as I moved onto the rack(This is easier with her on top. Less chance of claws being raked down my back)

Nuzzling her neck, one hand pressed to her groin, the other caressing her breasts, her body shivered beneath my touch... Just like all the others...(Though that's nothing against her. I haz magyck fingaz... Heheheh)

She turned in my grasp, one arm coming back around my neck while we shared another kiss...

**Quit shtalling! I'm drownin' in my own fluidsh down 'ere!**

We broke apart panting, each of us wearing a dumb, horny grin. "I can't wait anymore... C'mere..." She breathed, pushing me back...

Once flat on my back, she shifted, straddling my hips, licking her lips as she grinded her crotch against my shaft.

**Aw, there ya go, lad! Yea, babe, work it... Work it... **

"Mm... Not bad... Hope you're ready, 'cuz we're not stopping till I'm satisfied..."

Heh... She's a real winner, huh...

**Well, looksh like you done found yourshelf a nymph, lad! Well done.**

I lifted her up by her hips, and she positioned my length against her entrance while I slowly lowered her dow-

**FINALLY!**

Ah-ah-Agghhh...

Damn she's tight...!

**Ohhh, yessshhh...**

Further and further I watched my meat-missile(Mr P, as I remembered someone calling it... Much to my chagrin, at the time. **Fock that bloody little vixen... Damned teashe**) disappear into her snatch, until all ten inches were buried in her warm, wet folds, kissing her cervix. Goddamn... With a figure like that, where in the hell is she putting it all?

Her eyes rolled as she let out a soft moan, shivering from head to toe... Instinctively I pulled her down, flush against my chest as I kissed her again, my hands gripping her ass, slowly raising and lowering her hips methodically.

It felt heavenly, the feel of a pussy engulfing my schlong again... After a hundred years, I think its safe to say I'm a little backed up. Jack pulled away for a moment, placing her hands on my chest, and picked up the pace, bouncing up and down on my shaft, eyes closed, panting and moaning all the while...

Yeah, it is safe to say so. After only thirteen minutes of her riding, I could feel that tightening, knotting of muscles in my gut... Ugh...

**Aw, aw... Aw, yea, I'm- Ul, uh- Ulguaaaeerghchk!**(Puking sounds, in case you can't tell)

Another minute, before I unconsciencely slammed her hips down, pulling her into another embrace, that ball of knotted muscle snapping loose. Clenching my teeth, fighting the urge to crush Jack to my chest, it was just... Overwhelming. Waves of electricity shooting up and down my spine, the organ between my legs feeling so good it hurt... Sensory overload, I thought numbly...

Fifteen... Twenty seconds of spurting, painting her insides white with my seed, before the convulsions stopped, and Jack panted atop me, giving me a blushing, irritated look.

"Asshole... I was almost there..."

**Jusht wot in the fock makesh you think I'm done, yah bloody git? Get back ta work, lad! We've got a job ta do!**

I wasn't even thinking anymore... I just flipped over, putting her under me as I started to thrust, relishing the shocked look on her face...

"Wha-?! Ah-! AHHHN!" Her screaming brought a feral grin to my features, and some primal sense of pride... Just watching Jack's eyes roll and her back arch as orgasm took her made me want her even more...

I don't know how long I'd been pounding into her when I noticed my vision begin to shift...

It took every ounce of willpower I had left to fight it for control, as an immense pressure closed in on me... I felt as though I were suffocating...

**How tha hell do ya think I feel, right now? Why don't YOU try cramming your head intah thish hole right about now?**

But my body never stopped, didn't hesitate in the least as my vision went grey, and my mind faded to black.

'_Not... Again..._'

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard stepped out of the shower, her mind still preoccupied... She was going through everything in her mind, from the information EDI had found, to her own opinions on the man currently occupying her thoughts.

Blade...

A meaningful name... He was very skilled with those knives, and just about anything else that can be used as a weapon. But it wasn't his skill nor his abilities that she questioned...

It was his mental state. Two violent attacks, one due to emotional trauma, the other completely unprovoked. None since, but...

The second was understandable; he lost control, having his memory forcefully returned, learning that because he'd been placed in cryo, people he was close to had been killed. Even now, that ate at him...

But still... The first one was the incident that bothered Shepard. Miranda had merely placed a hand on his shoulder, and he'd reacted violently, nearly killing her before regaining control. It was as if he acted purely on reflex... But several other factors didn't add up. He hadn't had the same reaction to anyone else, and has kept his distance from Miranda ever since... Strange.

But before that, she needed to worry about keeping him from losing himself. As a soldier, he was no good to her if he went insane, or killed himself. And... Shepard couldn't bear to see someone going through the same pain she herself had endured. Not alone.

Pulling on her uniform, which was remarkably similar to the one she'd worn in the Alliance, she said out loud, "EDI. Where is Blade at, currently?"

"He is in the hold with Jack, Shepard. I would advise against going to speak with them as of yet." Shepard blinked.

"And why's that?" An AI telling her not to speak with her own crew? This outta be good.

"They are currently engaged in sexual relations, Shepard; they have been doing so for the past hour and forty-six minutes."

. . .

"...They're having sex, having met each other just a few days ago? Huh. Kelly did mention something about that... Well, at least they're not destroying anything." Blinking, Shepard remembered that Jack is a biotic. A violent one. "...They're not, right? Nothing broken or smashed, no spontaneous warp fields?"

She did NOT want to have to explain to Chakwas or one of the engineers how something got broken...

"Nothing untoward as of yet, Shepard; however, Jack has been unconsciencely creating small biotic fields, but hasn't had the concentration to maintain them for more than a few seconds, nor create any larger than fourteen cubic centimetres." Well, that's certainly good news...

...But it still means that she's going to have to wait until they're done before finishing up that conversation. Sighing, she asked, "You have an estimate on how long it'll be until they're finished?"

"Jack is a biotic, Shepard. Most biotics experience an elevated sex drive, based on their biotic strength. As Jack is considered to be the most powerful human biotic in history, it would be a safe guess to say at least another two hours."

An errant thought crossed Shepard's mind, but she put it aside, smirking. "Well, give me a heads-up when she tires Blade out."

Heading out of her cabin and down to deck 3, Shepard figured she would grab a quick bite to eat while she figured out where they would be headed next...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

An hour passed... Then another...

The food had been unappetising at best, and Shepard hoped the supplies she ordered from the Citadel would arrive soon. Shepard passed the time chatting with her old friend, Garrus, about the good old days and the new mission, as well as catching up on what's been going on in the past two years.

After all that... She took the elevator back up, reading through the information Zaeed had forwarded to her about Zorya, and Vido Santiago...

In her cabin, she sat down on the couch, kicking her feet up and reaching for the bottle and glass she'd left there.

Sipping her drink, she spoke. "EDI, you have an update on the two lovers down below?"

The AI responded almost immediately. "They are still in coitus, Shepard. However, Jack seems to be tiring; I would estimate no more than another forty-five minutes at their current pace, before she is too exhausted to continue."

. . .

"Wait, so you're telling me that Blade is wearing Jack out?" She parroted, blinking back shock. More often than not, it was the woman that tires the guy out in most relationships... Particularly when the woman's a nymphomaniac, and shepard would've pegged Jack as one from the beginning.

...Then you have to consider that Jack was in prison for some time before getting out... Shepard was honestly surprised that she hadn't exhausted Blade to the point of dehydration by now.

"That is correct, Shepard. His pace has not slowed, though I found an astounding discovery. Blade is surprisingly well-endowed, and particularly knowledgeable of different intercourse positions; there were several that I was unable to find replicated in other human media. The first was when both he and Jack contorted their bodies into a shape reminiscent of-"

Shepard interrupted, not exactly wanting to hear about the two lovers' exploits.(She hadn't been laid in ages... Even before the Normandy getting blown up. Her uterus was cussing her out right about now, screaming at her to go down and join them. 'Cuz when an AI says a man is well-endowed, they've gotta be frickin' HUGE!) "Ah, I don't need the details, EDI..." TMI!

"Of course, Shepard. Will you be going down, or shall I alert you when they've finished?" Shepard had to think on that... It HAS been awhile...

With a reluctant sigh, she put her own desires aside, remembering everything she needed to get done. Plus she'd just taken a shower, and Blade was probably going to be too exhausted to satisfy a second sex-deprived woman after a three hour romp with someone like Jack. "Let me know when they're done, and wake him up if you need to."

"Understood."

...

**Some hour and fifteen minutes later...**

"Shepard. Jack has lost conscienceness; Blade is currently putting her to bed and redressing. Shall I page him?"

Downing the last of her second glass, she responded, "No, I'll catch him when he gets out of the shower." The last thing she needed was to have to be around an attractive man smelling of sweat and sex for the next hour...

...Still, she was surprised he wasn't also down for the count. That kind of stamina is rare, these days... Guess the armor isn't everything.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Going back to Blade's POV.**

I laid the blanket over Jack's comatose form, pleased by the sleepy smile she still had...

'_Heh... She looks real cute, like that..._'

Standing, I worked the kinks out of my shoulder, heading for the stairs and up, intent on grabbing a shower.(Didn't want to put my armor back on, but I've got nothing else. Eh)

Oddly enough, I didn't feel tired at all. Frankly... I felt jittery, claustrophobic, and completely wired... An overabundance of energy, like I need to get myself moving. It was strange.

But whatever. I stepped into the elevator, taking it up to deck 3, stepping off and to the left, for the male restroom. Didn't pass by anyone I recognised along the way. Eh.

Inside, I headed straight for one of the shower stalls, entering and starting to pull off my armor, piece by piece. The latches were remarkably simple, truth be told. Anyway.

The toughest thing to remove was the backpiece... It was litterally PLUGGED into a fuckin' port someone had somehow grafted into my spine. Argh.

Once I got that off, the rest was easy enough... Except the skintight nano-tech undersuit, which was attatched to the metal plating; the plates could be removed piecemeal if necessary, for emergency purposes or user preferences. The only things that were absolutely necessary were the chest and back plates, hand plating,(Itegral to the suit) helmet, and greaves.(Shins and feet, which were also integral to the undersuit) Everything else, shoulders, forearms, and thighs could be removed and swapped out.

The belt/crotchplate was apart of the undersuit, believe it or not. Smart design. Apparently, it was also modular; Cerberus planned on making subsequent updates and aftermarket armor additions. Bits and pieces that could be added here and there, or wherever desired, to fit the mission requirements.

Good design, if they ever figured out a way to mass-produce this armor.

Turning on the hot water, I stepped under the spray, letting it soak away all the sweat I'd worked up with Jack... It felt good, letting the warm water run down my skin. I'd already checked on the port embedded in my back, and it was waterproof, dustproof, vacuumproof, even. I wasn't worried about gunk or water in the suit; the nano weave is supposed to absorb and expell whatever it doesn't need on the inside. Exceptionally useful...

It's a lot faster to put it on than to take it off, too. I can have the bulk of it attatched and ready to be dropped into vacuum in twenty seconds; from that, I'd have the necessary pieces for emergency combat applications, including shielding. The rest can be tossed into place rather lopsidedly in the next fifteen seconds, while the suit will readjust and reallign accordingly. In my first practice run it took me forty-two seconds to get all armor pieces attatched and my rifle to my shoulder.

Not too bad... At least, compared to my old kevlar and gear. That's alltogether a solid minute, pulling on pants, shirt, boots, belt, vest, gun, helmet... Then everything else, like backpack, gear, holsters, ammo, kit...

Helluva lotta crap to carry. I think they've corrected that these days with futuristic equipment.

I spent a few more minutes scrubbing my body clean, washing my buzzcut and generally cleaning up before I shut off the flow, wiping water from my face. Picking up my armor, I slowly and methodically attatched it piece by piece... Leggings of the undersuit first, which come all the way up to my abs. Once in place, the belt and codpiece tighten up, locking into place as the greaves do the same. That done, I lift up the top of the undersuit, fitting it on like a T-shirt with integral gloves. It automatically weaves itself into the bottom of said suit, becoming a single, unbroken piece... That's nanotech, for ya.

Then the chest- and back-plates... Simple to put on, a bitch to take off. Have to put the back-plate down flat across my back and line up the connector with the port at the top of my spine, making sure to get it in place perfectly... Once lined up, it automatically pulls itself to me, fully connecting itself with a jolt of lightning running down my spine... The chest-plate is simple enough. Pick it up, hold it to my breast, and get the latches close. Then it snaps itself to my body, the latches closing on their own and tightening up.

The sides tighten and conform to my body, slightly uncomfortable for a moment, before they adjust and shift themselves into place. Then the forearms, which connect to ports on the suit before locking into place. Upper arm plating is the same, ditto with thigh plates. The pauldrons connect to the top of the chestplate, latching into place, then to the upper arms. Once everything's attatched, it takes roughly thirty seconds to adjust and shift into perfect position, feeling like a second skin...

Then, something wierd happened.

After a few more moments, my vision shifted...

_Bio systems operational. Nanite sync has completed. Now performing synaptic HUD diagnostic..._

Glowing blue text floating in place... No matter where I looked, how I turned, what I did, it was there... Hanging right in the dead center of wherever I looked.

Oh, by the way, I haven't put on my helmet.

. . .

'_What the fuck?!_'

After a moment...

_...Diagnostic complete. Updating visual recognition and display._

In the upper corner of my vision... That EKG monitor appeared, same one as was in my helmet. Lower right, weapons display. In the top, middle part of my vision was the blue bar, a shielding display.

Above it, a compass. On the bottom left, was a small meter... Threat guage and toxicity report. Whoa...

'_And this is all... Built into me...? I've got the helmet, so what the hell?_'

After a moment, I thought, '_Or maybe... This is for those times when I don't have it... For undercover ops, perhaps... Still... This is just..._'

Shaking my head, I reached down and picked up my helm, looking it over...

'_Still intimidating... It was designed to strike fear in the hearts of men... To think that this is all that anyone sees when they look me in the eye... No wonder they would be afraid._' A dull reflection of my own face was all that I could see in the visor... Hm?

Strange... The HUD along the outskirts of my vision fades when I don't think about it... Hm.

Flipping the metal bucket, I pulled it over my head and set it in place, waiting for it to fully pressurize and seal before I stepped out of the stall.

. . .

Just outside it, I found no less than four crewmen standing around whistling, washing their hands, trying to look nonchalant.

Huh.

I moved past the lot of 'em silently, stepping out the door and turning right, just as I heard, "I think it's about time we finished that conversation."

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Shepard leaning against the wall, staring at me. Crap.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Gun control: The theory that a woman found dead in an alley, raped and strangled with her pantyhose, is somehow morally superior to a woman explaining to police how her attacker got that fatal bullet wound." — L. Neil Smith

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Here I sit, brokenhearted; tried to shit, and only farted."**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**The comic refrenced, **_


	8. Chapter 8

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**This chapter is dedicated to Alphafartofdoom. You're welcome.**_

_**Also, in response to Dchimera's comment; yes, some people add quotes to, as you say, "fluff the word count," but I've never added anything simply to say I wrote more. Never claimed it, never will. I've seen chapters a single sentence long that were bloody hilarious, so it means nothing to me. **_

_**When I started this fic, I decided I wouldn't post anything less than 30 kilobytes of actual story. Larger bits to appease the readers with more story, fewer breaks, when compared to my other stuff that has chapters ranging from 11k to 56k. I did this to maintain uniformity, as well. The shortest chapter in this is the first one, being 31k's worth before adding anything else. This current chapter is 34k before adding anything extra.**_

_**Now... YES, they are obnoxious. Because I AM OBNOXIOUS. I figured that would be pretty obvious. Most of what is posted is there to either make the reader think, or make them laugh. Or just make them go read something else, because my personal opinions drive people away like the fat guy on a bus who just had a burrito for lunch. Either way. My fic, I do what I want. Don't read 'em if you don't like 'em. **_

_**Oh, and yes, I added this in just to piss you off. Have a nice day.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#8 ..._**Penetration?**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Ah, crap.

She pulled off the wall, walking towards me. '_Well, you're in the soup now, buddy..._' I snarked to myself, trying to think up an excuse to get outta having my brain poked and prodded again. Agh, what to do...

Just as she stepped right in front of me, head tilted to look me in the eye,(Visor) I had an idea...

"Shepard." I inclinded my head respectively, then pointedly looked over her head, directly behind her. "Look, a leprechaun!"

. . .

"...If that didn't even work a hundred years ago, it's not working now." Damn.

I shrugged. "It's worked four out of seven times I tried, including this one. Well, you got me. Someone grab the rope and liquor."

Expression scrunched into puzzlement, she parroted, "Rope and liquor...?"

"Tools for compulsory interro- Erm, questioning."

Rolling her eyes, Shepard took my arm and dragged me into starboard observation.

...Time for my 'Therapy,' as it were.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Inside, she dragged me to one of the benches, pulling me down next to her. Now, I wouldn't've minded this at all, had she been dragging me down onto a bed with her.(Even after that thing with Jack, I still got that residual urge goin')

Shifting to get confortable, I asked, "Wanna handcuff me to the bench, just to keep with the theme of this little episode?"

"Keep it up, and I will." I blinked. Huh.

"Kinky."

...

She gave me a sardonic look. "You're not getting out of this with humor, you know."

I nodded. "True, but it serves as a useful distraction. What is it exactly you wished to discuss?" I had a hell of a time trying not to lean back, cross my legs, fold my arms and adopt the 'fetch my lawyer, then we'll talk' pose.

"What the hell was that back on Korlus? What did that krogan say to you?" Aha.

"Hm... Hard to say what, exactly, but apparently, I impressed a few of them when I took down those mechs. He asked me to stay and lead them; I refused, and told them that I followed your command. After that, I suggested they find a way to get back to the krogan homeworld, ah, what did they call it... Tuchanka. Far as I know, they were leaving the place to salvage enough of a ship to get them there." I shrugged. He was polite to me, considering the other krogan I've met.

She was... Stunned. Shocked. Awed. Heheh, cute. "They... Wanted you to lead them? A human? I never thought I'd see the day..." Shaking her head, she looked back at me, changing the subject.

"Wait. You... You remember destroying the heavies?" ...?

"Yeah, why? Something wrong?" I asked, head tilted, trying to figure out her expression...

"...Take off your helmet."

?

I did so, still puzzled by her expression. "...What? What is it?" Did I have something on my face?

"Did you have another of those episodes, like the one you mentioned to Chakwas?" Ah... That's what she means...

"...Yes. It was... Strange, but not unpleasant." About as honest a description as I can offer.

Her piercing stare could go clean through solid steel. "What was it, exactly?"

"...The closest I can describe it would be an adrenaline high. Just... A rush. To feel as though you are unstoppable. That is what I felt." It is not fight or flight... Fight or fight harder would be more accurate.

She was quiet for several moments... "Can you control it?"

Con...Trol it? "I... Do not know. If you mean start and end them on a whim, no. If you mean whether or not I can control my actions, then the short answer is yes."

She was not convinced. "And the long answer?"

"Yeeeeeeeessssss-"

Rolling her eyes, she cut off my funny retort. "Not funny." Her rebuttle rang hollow, seeing as she was trying very hard not to smile. Heheh.

Shrugging, I remarked, "I thought it was. It's... Hard to describe. I can see what I'm doing; but I'm not actively thinking about it, or really planning through once my vision starts greying out. I find myself fighting on instinct alone during them. It's... Strangely freeing. As far as I know, my general state of mind remains the same, so I know full well I wouldn't harm noncombatants. And yet... Collateral damage becomes less of a concern, as does my personal safety, so long as the enemy falls. That's usually the bottom line, and my only thought; kill the enemy, before they can kill y- ...Myself or my comrades." Shit, almost gave that away... Fuck. FUCK! She probably noticed it anyway. Damnit.

Her expression shifted ever so slightly... Becoming stonier; the way it always does when she's hiding her thoughts, thinking hard on something. Agh... I really fucked up this time...(Back then, I didn't know why I was infatuated with her; I wasn't even fully aware of my affections, either... I just knew that she was precious to me, for some reason, when I hardly knew her. It was... Unsettling, for someone who prides himself on being in nearly full control of his emotions)

Quick, think of something! C'mon, damnit, THINK!

...

Fuck.

She then said, "I just need to know one thing. Will you be a danger to any of the crew?"

"No." Flat, honest, and blunt.

"...And to yourself?" She finished, intently staring into my eyes...

She's good... Very good. "If you're trying to ask about my mental state, you needn't try to be subtle about it."

"Fine. Will you?" ...Can't read her... Damnit, she's good...

I slowly shook my head, responding, "No... To intentionally take my own life would go against everything I stand for. To give up, after everything I've done... To run away after fighting for so long... To admit that I am _weak_... That is something I don't know how to do. Until the day I die, I will _never _stop moving forward, to tomorrow. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

Nodding, she spoke once more. "Yes, it does. From now on, I expect you to refrain from doing anything stupid or suicidal. No self-sacrificing deeds, no matter how heroic. Clear?"

I nodded. "Of course, Shepard. And ah, before I forget, there is something I could use your help with."

She blinked, her trail of thought momentarily paused. "Hm? And what's that?"

"While I owe Cerberus a debt of gratitude for waking me up,(And allowing me to meet you) I'm not on their payroll, nor do I owe them my loyalty; beyond that, I'm kinda sick of being glared at by anyone and everyone we come across. Kinda throws me off when I try to figure out who's going to start shooting at us at any given moment, y'know? So in short, got any spray-paint?"

...Again, Shepard blinked, parroting, "...Spray-paint?"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"You know... You're lucky Cerberus decided to shell out for an entire top-tier N7 armor locker full of repair and customization equipment."

"Huh. Guess so." I grunted, readjusting the fit of my left armguard. I was greatly pleased by the new colors, seeing as they were badass, intimidating, and practical. Non-reflective jet-black, with dark, blood-red accents... In low-light conditions, I'd be damn-near invisible. In full light, I appeared to be stained with blood, wearing the standard jet-black of special forces outfits. Very nice, very nice.

I was patting myself on the back for remembering to ask about this, seeing as I was still sick of wearing Cerberus colors. Now the armor singled me out as a nonaffiliate, at the very least.

After checking that over, I turned back to Shepard. "Thanks, Shepard. I owe you one."

She rolled her eyes, smiling as she shook her head. "Yep, that's what I'm here for... Toadying to my clueless crewmen. There anything else on your mind?"

I thought for a half-second...

"...Yeah, actually..."

Her expression turned sardonic for a second, before she chuckled at my expression. "Alright, what is it? And no, I'm not redoing it a different color if you change your mind. You can redo it yourself."

I shook my head, tempted to smile, if not for the thougths running through my head. "No, I was wondering... After the mission's finished, and the Collectors are dealt with... Could we make a pit-stop on Earth? I'd... Like to pay my respects to my squad."

Her eyes widened as she understood what I meant, before she adopted that sad smile that makes me just want to give her a bear hug.(Among... Other, things. Heheheh) "...Yeah... I think we can manage that."

"I'd greatly appreciate it. Thank you, Shepard." Inclining my head I turned to leave, walking out of her cabin as I pulled on my helmet, locking it in place.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Suppressing a yawn, I headed down into the hold, blinking back sudden grogginess...

Ugh...

Felt... Like I hadn't slept in ages...

Wha...

Oogh... So... Cold...

I nearly collapsed, grabbing the rail for support.

Why...

I shook my head again, trying to fight back the syrupy glaze that was settling over my senses... It felt like someone...

...Drugged... Me...

. . .

Realisation dawned on me, but far, far too late...

_'Just like that damned white-coat... And the tank...'_

It took a herculean effort just to drag myself over to the rack... I almost didn't register Jack's form, as she sat up on the rack, blinking groggily, looking puzzled.

Her voice.. I... I couldn't...

Those words sounded too far away... Just noise...

It meant nothing, as I collapsed onto the makeshift bed, eyelids feeling so... Very... Heavy...

. . .

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

'_Auuugghhh... Wha...?_'

Forcing my eyes open, blearily trying to figure out what the hell was going on, where I was, and how I got there, all I could see was an ocean of cream-colored skin, with patches of black ink...

Huh...?

Oh... Right. Jack.

'_Ugh... C'mon... Get up. Get armed. Something's not right..._'

Pushing myself up, blinking back sleep, I hopped off the rack, turning back to observe Jack...

She was still asleep... Y'know... She looks so much more peaceful like that...

Ah... No time to waste. Gotta get moving.

Up the stairs and out of the hold I went, breezing past Gabby on her way into the engine room. As I stepped out into the hall, I realised something.

I had no clue what the fuck I was doing, or why I was out here.

'_Why am I...?_' I didn't even get to finish that thought, as the elevator opened.

Hm?

Out stepped Shepard, who was looking beautiful as usual-

...

I halted that trail of thought right there, before I started ogling her again.(Keyword there)

She turned left, moving in my direction, humming to herself... Before pausing when she saw me standing there. "Blade? Something wrong?"

"...No, just wondering if you needed help with anything." I ventured, following my gut instinct.

The Commander blinked, a cute, quizzical look on her face. "How did you...? Nevermind, c'mon."

She marched past me, shaking her head and muttering something under her breath.

...?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Filing that away for later, I followed along behind her, as she went straight into port cargo.

Inside, the room was laden with several storage containers, a workbench, and of course, one super-sized stasis tank filled to the brim with krogan whup-ass.

As that thought ran through my head, so did a relatively lame joke. I nudged Shepard, snarking, "Heheh, guess someone just couldn't settle for a can of whup-ass, and needed a whole tank full of it."

Shepard chuckled, but otherwise remained silent, observing the captive krogan.

After several moment, she said, "EDI, seal the room. I'm letting him out."

"That is inadvisable, Shepard. Protocol clearly states that-" The Commander cut off the AI.

"He's either a valuable asset, or a time bomb. I'd rather get it out of the way now."

EDI relented. "...Very well, Shepard. The switch, and consequences, are yours."

Nodding, she moved closer to the capsule, working the console; pressing buttons, flipping switches, and messing with it until she hit something that must've been labelled 'purge.'

Within seconds, the fluid inside the tank began draining, and we both stepped well back and away as the doors of the tank(Why in the hell it had doors, I'll never know) opened, and the massive, bulky creature fell forward, collapsing on his hands and knees, coughing and hacking up whatever liquid was inside the tank.

There he stayed, trying his damndest to cough up a lung or three, before his eyes focused on Shepard...

In an instant, he was on his feet, charging-

_For a single moment... Everything went grey..._

And when color returned, the krogan was on his face, my boot on his back, a knife in my off-hand, and my gun pressed against the side of his head.

"Stand down." Shepard calmly ordered, and I did so, stepping off the oversized lizard, holstering my weapons.

The krogan got to his feet, intently watching me... Before turning his attention to Shepard. "You command a strong soldier... Okeer never imprinted anything about a human as strong as a krogan."

Smirking, she replied, "He's unique. I'm Commander Shepard, and the soldier," She indicated me. "Is Blade. What's your name?"

The as-yet unnamed krogan didn't give an immediate response, rambling something about not having a name. "...Grunt... It has no meaning... It will do. I am Grunt." The kro- er, Grunt, stood a little taller, a bit more confidently, puffed out his chest a little. Pride, mayhaps?

Anyway, he addressed me. "Blade. You follow Shepard... Is she worthy of commanding such strength?"

Hmm... Strange... Krogan must like me or something. Like cats. Or dogs.

...Eh.

"Aye. She is the strongest, and the driving force behind us; I am merely her weapon. Our enemies are strong, and many. Will you join us?"

I couldn't read his expression... "Hmph. That is... Acceptable." He turned back to the Commander. "I will join you, Shepard. May the blood of our foes never stop flowing!"

...Trying not to smirk at his exuberant statement and childlike enthusiasm, Shepard shook Grunt's hand, and welcomed him. "Welcome to the Normandy, Grunt. If you need anything, just give me a heads-up. C'mon, Blade, we'll let Grunt get settled in."

Nodding, I followed her out, and was about to head back down into the hold when she called after me.

"Hey, Blade."

I glanced back over my shoulder. "Yes?"

Her expression was... Okay, I had no idea. At all. "Did you mean what you said, or was that just lip-service?"

"Does it make a difference, Commander?" I turned back, and returned to the hold.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Back down into the hold I was-

Ugh...

That sudden exhaustion from earlier returned full-force, nearly brinigng me to my knees. I forced myself to move, but got no more than two steps, before I collapsed to the deck.

And as darkness took me, my head pounding like a jackhammer, images flashed through my mind...

Of a darkened sky, flashing with lightning... Looking to the ground, falling...

Then of myself... Flying through the air, pulled across great spaces, suspended from a cable...

Blueprints... Instructions for a device, of some sort...

Before finally, everything faded to black.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_I opened my eyes, and found myself standing inside a shuttle..._

_Beside me, were four other Spartans, all wearing the same armor, carrying the same weapons. _

_"This is it. Let's go." The one nearest the hatch ordered, as the rest stood up, including myself. Our squad leader hit the hatch release, and just as it opened, he jumped out..._

_Every other Spartan followed suit, jumping out of the shuttle and into freefall at set intervals, until I was the only one left..._

_"Get going!" I heard the pilot shout, as my body moved on its own... And I jumped out, into the darkness, plummeting towards the ground... Falling through the atmosphere, paying no mind to the darkened clouds and flashes of lightning._

_I was only looking to the Spartan before me, whose armor's IFF was my guide._

_Falling..._

_Falling..._

_Fall...Ing..._

_"Engage airbrakes." A voice sounded in my helmet, through the comm link. I instinctively knew it was my squad leader, giving the order._

_Below me, I saw my comrade flipping himself, and his thrusters activating. I felt my own body moving of its own accord, righting itself, before being jerked upwards, my descent slowed by the thrusters attatched to my own armor. _

_Down, down, down..._

_Further and further we fell, as the ground got closer and closer..._

_Before finally..._

_"Impact in five. Hang onto your teeth, people."_

_Five seconds... And my body moved on its own once more, tucking into a tight ball of muscle, tensed up, ready..._

_And... *__**BABOOSHCK!**__*_

_I hit the ground, hard, before untucking and pulling myself out of a short crater, reaching up and pulling my rifle off my back. Once on my feet, I saw several other identical craters within thirty feet, with identical armored Spartans pulling themselves up and arming themselves. We all converged on the one ahead of us, who began taking charge once more._

_"Drop successful, all Spartans accounted for. 03, 09, take route 37A and provide overwatch. The rest of you, on me. Double-0, take point." _

_I nodded, as two of my comrades went off on their own in one direction, and I moved ahead of the rest in a different one... Both my squad leader and partner fell into step behind me, scanning for targets..._

_..._

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_'Augh...'_

When I next opened my eyes, all I saw was-

"...Is there something you want, Jack?" She recoiled as if I'd struck her, jumping back from where she'd been leaning over me. I had caught her staring intently into my visor, trying to see through it... I think.

I sat up, watching her... After taking a moment to let her heartrate go back to normal, she gave me a glare. "Thanks for scaring the shit outta me..."

Shrugging, I retorted, "Then you shouldn't've been trying to make out with my helmet while I was asleep. Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

"Smartass..." Her cheeks were tinged crimson, which made her look even cuter as she turned away in a huff, plopping down in front of the workbench. Huh.

...Women.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After getting up and working the kinks out of my shoulders, I meandered up to deck 3 and into starboard observation, plopping down and flicking on my omni-tool, browsing through the more... Technical portions of the data EDI had decrypted. I'd only just started skimming through when my visor lit up again.

_Neuro-link established; data transfer complete. Valhalla mainframe adaptation cycle complete; version 1.7 now operational._

I blinked. The hell?

...Within seconds... Everything that I'd been reading on my omni was now scrolling across my visor... Whoa...

And as my omni-tool faded, the screen in front of my eyes became more pronounced, though still partially translucent. I could see through it with ease, particularly if I focused my vision on what was going on around me, but it seemed to become more opaque if I tried to read the screen...

'_Wicked..._' I had only started to read when I wondered, '_Wait. How the hell do I scroll down?_'

...That's when the lines of text scrolled more me.

'_...Convenient. Heheh._'

Readign went much mroe smoothly, as I flicked through menus by thought, unconsciencely scrolling, browsing, not even noticing...

...For a few moments.

...

'_Wait. The fuck? Is this thing... Reacting to my thoughts...?_'

_YES._

I jumped, as a different color line of text scrolled across my visor.

_System VI is now operational; neuro-link has been established. Armorsuit computer is now directly interfacing with operator nervous system. Omni-tool use for cataloging information is now obsolete. Data gathered in the field, topographical maps, sighting calculations, and various other computational functions will now be handled autonomously by Valhalla's VI. _

_'A... VI? Okay... Virtual intelligence, right... A computer...'_

_Yes, a computer. System has no direct access to Operator functionality, nor baseline suit systems. Lifesupport, combat applications, barrier systems, enviornmental controls, and basic functions are relegated by Operator, and suit nanites. VI can be deactivated or reactivated at any time. _

Before my next thought could even fully go through, the VI answered.

_And the answer to your query is NO. Suit VI's primary purpose and function, is Operator survival and self-preservation. Mission priorities are secondary, and cannot be accomplished if there is no Operator to interface with armorsuit. Valhalla is NOT automated; human capabilities are required for functionality. Armorsuit exponentiates human potential; it does not possess the decision-making processes, experience, nor organic compassion required for efficient work against organic adversaries._

...Well, that's that, then...

_Of course. Suit VI can be accessed at any time by thought. Please refer to R&D logs for full enderstanding of the Valhalla system._

...Okay.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After the... Computer, stopped answering my thoughts and returned to whatever it was doign before,

_Processing suit's adaptation capabilities and calibrating newest armament upgrades. Please refer to R&D logs for further information. _

...

_Suit VI will now refrain from answering further queries until directly addressed by operator through audio recognition._

Good. Annoying...

_Please refrain from "insulting" Suit VI. I am a computer, and therefore am unaffected by Operator's use of profanity. Carry on. _

...Smartass. Anyway.

I went back to reading, and flicked through the menus until I found what I was looking for.

_Valhalla Research and Development logs._

Aha...

Here we go.

_Primary purpose of Valhalla Armorsuit; modular exoskeleton designed to fully exploit the potential martial capabilities of humanity. _

_WARNING; Experimental design; exceeds reccommended safety standards for human operation. Advise extreme caution in using the Valhalla system. _

_Primary function; lifesupport and homeostasis of operator. Operator suvivability using suit; more than 800% likelihood of survival when compared to standard-issue N7 armor. Roughly 238% increased likelihood of survival when compared to N7-issued T5-V battlesuit. Both armors are within the same class; however, the T5-V has been mass-produced, albeit on a small scale. _

_Average cost of a single N7 set of armor; 400,000 cedits, respectively._

_Average cost of a single T5-V; roughly 2.3 million credits. _

_Cost of prototype Valhalla armorsuit, not including R&D costs, nor failed experimental technology and labor; (Meaning, only the cost of used materials) 358.9 million credits. Roughly a similar cost to purchasing a mid-grade frigate, or military-surplus cruiser. Labor costs are significant, due to complexity of materials, and rarity of certain elements used in power core._

_R&D costs included in Valhalla production increases price significantly. 37.2 billion credits. Costs have been deemed acceptable, due to invaluable data gathered on a near self-sustaining power source [__**CLASSIFIED**__] used in suit power core. _

_Scientists had difficulty in creating core; it was used in all suits manufactured, including the first failed four armorsuits, before the final production model was deemed acceptable, and then retrofitted as time passed. _

_Power core has undergone a slight modification; no longer singly contained within the armorplating itself, it is now partially within the nanotech undersuit, through [__**CLASSIFIED**__] procedures._

_Valhalla system explanation; it revolves around nanotechnology, making the armorsuit modular; it adapts to both operator preferences, and used applications. Suit adapts as it is used, changing as time passes. More time spent under fire will harden the suit's nano-weave, allowing for further resistance to enemy fire. _

_Time spent in vaccuum will affect homeostasis functions, as well as user preference for utilizing their helmet. Time spent on high-gravity worlds, or deep underwater, will also affect suit adaptations. _

_Most recent adaptations; formation of grappling-hook launcher protrusions on forearms; allows expedited travel from elevated positions. Materials used; Jovian cord absorbed and copied by nanotech. _

_Nano-weave has adapted for point-blank firefight engagements; undersuit will now detect incoming fire and harden accordingly, momentarily becoming of similar composition to armorplating. _

_Jetpack has been calibrated for use on standard, low, and high-gravity worlds. EVA use also complete. Calibration for use when submerged has not yet been completed; advise a minimum of 36 hours before attempting._

_Shielding modifications have been completed; now allows for greater chance of operator survivability and more efficient protection against higher-velocity munitions, such as vehicle-mounted weaponry and anti-material firearms, by diverting energy to specific areas being targeted during combat. _

_Nano-weave adaptation complete; artificial muscle enhancement now exceeds expected ceiling value of 300,000 newtons of force(force of a small nuclear explosion, albeit with a much smaller area of effect); computer now unable to fully calculate total maximum force output given current rate of increase. Estimation; excess of 1.8 million newton output within one month at current rate. Unable to give proper measurement without more accurate instruments. Warning; self injury unavoidable after 150,000 newtons of force applied. Nanite presence within Operator has alleviated side-effects and increased pain tolerance by 500%, well above predicted values. Still. Long-term effects have yet to be determined._

_Valhalla system has been activated, but full functionality has not yet been reached. System's primary combat application; increases Operator reaction time, physical strength, physical speed, shielding strength, armor density, and overall survivability. _

_Nano-weave increases Operator's physical abilities more than one hundred fold, exponentially turning a single soldier, into a force more potent than an entire army. A single Spartan operates like a squad, and works using the same hit-and-run tactics against much larger, more conventional forces. _

_A five-man squad of Spartans is capable of eliminating a well-trained, well-quipped army of ten thousand troopers, including medium and heavy armor, over a three-month period; proven to have a 100% success rate, with less than two Spartan casualties. However, simulations may prove to be inaccurate, given prototype's combat efficiency; a squad of equally-efficient Spartans may be able to engage an army of well over fifty thousand over a six-month period without any casualties. _

_Efficiency of Spartan soldiers has been confirmed; costs have been deemed more than acceptable. Cerberus is now investigating methods for mass-production of Valhalla armorsuits, possibly of lesser capabilities, at a more efficient cost; scientists remain confident that a small army of Spartans, even lower-grade ones, will be as efficient as a single company(One hundred or less) of prototype-level Spartans, with even lower replacement costs over time. This is believed to be a more cost-efficient solution._

_NOTE; scientists have also found that Operator selection is the latchkey factor, rather than armor capabilities. The Valhalla system is heavily influenced by Operator's efficiency, emotions, willpower, reaction time, and skill level. This has lead to even more rigorous selection processes, and a far more reduced pool of possible candidates. _

_Armorsuit VI has been reworked multiple times; currently only interfaces with certain subroutines of the mainframe and omni-tool, and does not interact with the nanites at all. This is a failsafe measure to prevent the entire suit from being hacked or compromised, as well as to maintain Operator survivability, and allow for greater Operator discretion._

_If systems were automated, there would be no point of a human Operator. Therefore, only secondary, non-vital tasks are relegated to the system VI. If it is hacked, it can make the Operator uncomfrtable, and quite possibly make his/her life a living hell for a short while, but cannot actually harm the Operator nor cause their death. This is a tradeoff; slightly less convenient at times, but exceptionally useful for completing menial tasks in short periods of time. _

_Original suggestion was to incorporate an actual AI within armorsuit, but this was rejected after a time; if the AI went rogue, it could compromise Operator survivability, as an AI is far more competant, and far more dangerous, than a simple VI. Not to mention, the AI would be fully incorporated into the suit. If it was damaged beyond repair, or completely destroyed, the Operator would be unable to reinterface with a different AI due to emotional attachment and neuro-link degeneration. _

_One of the major drawbacks of the Valhalla system and the Spartan project in general, is maintaining the loyalty of the soldier; the armorsuit becomes completely dedicated to the soldier, not to Command, nor the Illusive Man. An AI would be completely faithful to the Operator after an emotional attachment has been made, and could possibly harm the soldier's loyalty. Therefore, that idea has been rebuked. _

_The armorsuit, the Valhalla system and Spartans in general, cannot be reused. The armor becomes apart of the Spartan; it cannot be refurbished or adjusted to work with a new Operator. It quite litterally will only work for the person it has been neuro-linked to. If the Operator dies, the power core and certain parts of the suit can be scavenged, but the bulk of it becomes worthless for anything other than reverse-engineering. However, a Spartan can be linked to a new armorsuit; however, the process is far mroe difficult, sicne their nervous system will have adapted to their first armorsuit; it generall takes about a full year for a soldier to adapt to the armor and become a Spartan. _

_...But it requires upwards of five years to attain that same neuro-link with a new armorsuit. This also does not take into account the adaptations, which must be manually acquired once more. Nor does it include the variables associated with an added AI interface._

_We still have yet to fully ensure the loyalty of the soldier, but we have come up with a bastardized workaround. It is-[__**CLASSIFIED**__] _

A jolt ran through my head, sending massvie waves of pure, searing pain from my skull all the way down my spine, as everything on my visor was scrambled for several seconds.

"Guh...!" Gritting my teeth, I shook my head and blinked back tears, as the pain slowly faded...

_Apologies, Operator. A previously unknown subroutine has been compromised; severe negative feedback was adminitered, from an unknown source. I have located and deactivated this subroutine, to prevent a repeat episode._

Agh... The fuck... Ow...

Just... What the hell was that...?

Shaking my head, I got to my feet, feeling famished... After reading all that, my head felt like it was going to explode, so I figured I'd take a break to process all that information...

And find a way to yank the damned ice pick outta my head. After that...

...I think I'll ask the resident AI for some assistance on the suit systems. Maybe get some damned answers, 'cuz most of this is all bollocks to me. I'm a bloody grunt, not some egghead boffin, damnit. I may be smart, but I'm definitely not an Einstein.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_ `

"Gun control: The theory that a woman found dead in an alley, raped and strangled with her pantyhose, is somehow morally superior to a woman explaining to police how her attacker got that fatal bullet wound." — L. Neil Smith

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Here I sit, brokenhearted; tried to shit, but only farted."**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Hondo: The reason we're gathered here on our God-given, much-needed day of rest is that we have a Polish hostage.

Deke: So what if he's Polish?

Hondo: No, no. Means he's one of those: "Anyone comes in, I'll blow my head off" type of guys.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Out of the night that covers me, black as pitch from pole to pole, **

**I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.**

**In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud.**

**Under the bludgeonings of chance, my head is bloody, but unbowed. -Invictus, by William Earnest Henley.**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Only two things are infinite; the universe and human stupidity, but I'm not sure about the former."** - _**Albert Einstein**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, my word is poontang."**-_**Animal Mother**_-

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote."** -_**Benjamin Franklin **_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"F that guy. F his apathetic old man. F everything he holds dear until it's bleeding from the ass and crying into a pillow."** ~Evil_ATF on JustinWB

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"**You cannot invade the mainland United States. There would be a rifle behind every blade of grass."** – _**Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**...But when some one like you asks "Am I proud to be a killer?" there's only one answer.**

"Fuckin' A right I am."

-Unknown

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**...Most ranges seem to frown on the whole 'getting naked' step but you have to train like you fight.** -Unknown

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Doctrine is the last refuge of the unimaginative." **- _**General James "Chaos" Mattis, USMC**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"**A government big enough to give you everything you want, is strong enough to take everything you have."** -_**Thomas Jefferson**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Show a prisoner the world and he will still only see the bars." -**_**Unknown**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"You people have too much time on your hands."** - Scottryan

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

UNINSTALLING OBAMA...…. ██████████████▒▒ 90% complete. -_**I can't WAIT for the IRS scandal to come back and bite him in the ass with an impeachment. We were going to impeach Nixon for less, so we'd damn well better impeach this worthless son of a bitch!**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Can you find the Halo Reach shout-out in this chapter?**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**This chapter is dedicated to my balls. Y'know, just because.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#9 _**Turning up the Heat**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Shepard." She looked up from the datapad she'd been reading, towards the camera.

"Yes, EDI?" Shepard was used to hearing from the AI, but it still annoyed the Commander that she was under surveillance even in her own quarters.

"Blade submitted some rather intriguing data, asking for my opinion on a system VI he recently discovered within his own armorsuit, as well as another suit function. I believe you will find it... Interesting." Shepard raised an eyebrow, thinking to herself,

'_Data an AI thinks is interesting? Great... Worth a quick glance._' She reached for her omni-tool, finding the data already being transferred... A moment later, she skimmed through its contents, smirking when she read some of Blade's comments.

He'd added small notes, many of which she could easily apply his deadpan drawl for comedic effect.

Questions addressed to EDI, including asking about calculating survivability and effectiveness of some new kind of system he'd found... That his armor was made for orbital-drop, from a ship or shuttle in or out of a planet's apmosphere, all the way down to the planet's surface...

...And survive impact unharmed, ready for combat.

Shepard stroked her chin thoughtfully, and asked, "What do you think about this, EDI?"

"It is not a very efficient system, Shepard, but it has its merits. For sheer shock value and psychological impact upon a biological enemy, it is on a completely different level. Considering Blade's combat efficiency and skill, this is a suitable method of entry, allowing him to hit a target from an unexpected position, breaking their lines and permitting the main forces to move in with much less resistance. As far as I have found, it is completely functional and ready for use; however, without an actual shakedown run, I cannot accurately determine the survivability rate of the operator."

Shepard blinked. "So we won't know if it could kill him, unless he jumps and we ask when he hits the ground?"

"Essentially, Shepard."

"...Well, that's just great..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"So, tell me again... How did I manage to get suckered into crawling through ductwork to fix something I know fuck-all about?" It was dark, dank, and I nearly got stuck a dozen times over. Not a fun way to spend the afternoon... Or, whatever time it is.

"_Well, you told us to give you a heads-up if we needed a hand with anything..._" The female engineer responded, just before she was followed up by her partner.

"_Yah, and you went and busted that suppot beam, which WE had to help repair. So fair's fair._" Ken's scottish accent sounded through my radio loud and clear, just before Gabby came back with,

"_Ken, I had to help him fix the beam. You just stood there and gaped like a fish._"

"_Yes, and I gave you the moral support you needed._"

...

"Are you sure you two comedians made the right career choice? I think you'd be better off joining the local comedy club..."

They laughed off my dry retort. "_Ha ha! Yah, this is just our dayjob, innit, Gabby?_"

"_Yep, Ken here's QUITE the ventriloquist. He makes his dick talk all the time..._"

"_Yeah, I- Wait... Hey!_"

I chuckled, flipping myself over and working on the other side of the device... What'd they call it...

"What's this thing called, again? Some kinda coupling?"

"_T6 FBA couplings, and that's the last one. Once you've got it swapped out and adjusted, we'll be able to calibrate everything to hold out much more efficiently._"

"Meaning?" I proferred, wanting to hear why they practically dragged me down into this damned network of crawlspaces...

Ken answered giddily. "_Meaning, we'll only have to calibrate the FBA array every week, instead of every day! That'll save us three hours' work each day, plus the Normandy's kinetic barriers will hold up better under fire, since the field bleed will be better channeled back into the system._"

"Oookay... I'll just go with 'it saves on maintainence time.' Gotcha. Lemme see... This goes here, that goes there, aaaaand..." I tightened down the last lead, deactivating my omni-tool.

"How's that?"

"_Just one second... Ha ha, Alright! You got it, c'mon back._"

I rolled my eyes, rearranging myself to begin the trek back to engineering. "Right... Remind me to remove my armor the next time I have to go crawling through this place..."

Quite suddenly...(Is it really?)

"_Oh, shit! __**BRACE FOR EVASIVE MANEUVERS!**_**" **Joker's voice came through the loudspeakers and my helmet, sounding decidedly panicked, just as I thought,

'_Evasive man-? Fuck!_'

"WHOA SHIT!"

I got tossed around the ducts like a fuckin' pinball, bouncing off every surface, banging and clanking like a bloody ricochete.(I'm not gonna bother with the sound effects, because it would be a long, drawn-out, bloody affair, and you all know what metal-on-metal sounds like anyway)

Several moments later...

"...I don't know who, where, or how, but someone is about to have my boot introduced to their colon..."

"_Augh... I second that... Ooogh... Think I'm gonna be sick..._" Ken sounded nauseous, and Gabby threw in,

"_Ugh... My head... What the hell was that? Hey Joker, what the hell?_"

Joker came back through the radio, still sounding almost a little panicked. "_Shit, shit... Sorry, we got cut off by an entire fleet. I had to take evasive maneuvers right out of FTL, 'cuz that shot just barely missed by about twenty feet. Everyone alright down there?_"

Thoroughly annoyed, I bit out, "Aside from feeling like a bloody pinball that just got tossed through a blender, yeah, just peachy."

"_Ouch... Sorry._"

Suddenly,(Again?) Shepard came through on the frequency. "_Alright, Joker, you have ten seconds to tell me why I just got thrown around my bathroom like a ragdoll._"

"_Uh, yes ma'am! We dropped out of FTL and I had to take evasive maneuvers due to an unexpected half-dozen cruisers lying in wait, which all opened fire on us the moment we were in the system. Best I can tell, they're Blues Suns; real shoddy second-hand ships retrofitted with big guns. Now that we're running silent, they don't know where we are._"

Okay... So, I get to hang my foot in a ship's ass. Yay.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After carefully extricating myself from the crawlspace, I made my way up the elevator and to the cockpit, intent on seeing what the hell was up with my own two eyes. Before I could get off, the elevator went further up to the first deck, and in stepped Shepard, whose hair was still wet. She was sporting a fresh bruise across her neck and, presumably, her shoulders, which explains why she's annoyed.

She looked me up and down, noting the small patches of paint that were chipped off, as we both made our comments.

"Like a ragdoll, huh?"

"Human pinball, huh?"

. . .

"You sure you're not my clone, or something?" She snarked, smirking.

"Nah, I'm not pretty enough to-" I stopped, struck by an odd thought.

"...Say, would that be incest, or masturbation?" I asked, completely baffled.

She was quiet for a moment...

"You know... I have no idea."

Huh.

Erm, anyway. The elevator stopped and we both got off, heading around the map display and towards our esteemed pilot. Along the way, we saw a good few irate crewmen, many of whom were tossing Joker some less than appreciative glares.

Up further, along the walkway that had several consoles with people, every single one of them had some kind of visible bruise, and they were all looking more than a little annoyed... I get the feeling Joker's not too popular right at the moment.

But I digress. Up further in the actual cockpit, Joker was sitting there sweating, and I could've sworn I heard the AI giggling.

"Status report, Joker."

He answered immediately, this time without his usual snarky overtones. "Six cruisers, accompanied by nine frigates and about two dozen fighters, Commander... All Blue Suns; a good portion of their total fleet, I think. The moment we dropped out of FTL, they started taking pot shots at us, didn't even try to verify our IFF. EDI's been listening in on their com chatter ever since."

Said AI spoke up. "They appear to be confused; they are not sure if we retreated, or if we were destroyed. I have already plotted a course to avoid visual detection. Shepard, it appears Zaeed's information is correct; it seems likely that one of the Blue Suns' main bases is located on Zorya."

She nodded. "Alright. Once we're in range, I'll take the shuttle and a squad down. We'll hit the facility, and get those people out. Then we contact Cerberus and have them send in pick-up ships, maybe send a tip to the Alliance about the Blue Suns fleet strength..." Shepard trailed off, stroking her chin in thought.

...It was a pose that made her look even cuter than I thought possible. I, ah, kinda lost track of the conversation after that, distracted...

Until several minutes later, when her voice startled me. "Blade? ...Blade, you awake in there?"

"Hm? Yes, what is it?"

She gave me another of her coy smirks, teasing, "You weren't fantasizing about me again, were you?"

Yes. "No, I was knee-deep in thought... The Blue Suns are a mercenary faction, yes? How can they afford so many starships?"

"Through blackmail, racketeering, security, smuggling, and various other underhanded methods. As I was saying earlier... You don't mind a little heat, do you?" She fluttered her eyelids, giving me a doe-eyed stare...

...I sense that I'm about to be taken advantage of...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

...When I'm right, I'm right, damnit.

"Am I the only dumbass that falls for that, or do you have everyone else wrapped around your finger?"

Shepard giggled to herself, a vixen's taunting smirk on her face. "Nope, juuust you. Then again, it would probably work on half the crew..."

Zaeed nudged my side, snickering, "Even the women, too."

Grunt just shook his head, rumbling, "Do all humans have a shared sense of humor?"

The pilot called back, "Nope, just the weird ones!"

"Hey..."

...Then the four humans on board chuckled, while the lone krogan was left wondering if he was the sane one.

Anyway, we were in the shuttle, taking down a squad of four to the planet Zorya, to liberate a fuel refinery that's been taken over by a company of Blue Suns mercenaries. Lovely.

This might sound easy enough, but I get the feeling it will be a pain in the ass... Hostage situations always are. Plus where there's fuel, there's a good chance you can spark a fire or even an explosion if you aren't careful with your shot placement.

Oil drums won't explode, but if you knock one over or punch a hole in it, and a bullet impacts something hard close by, the spark can set off the fumes; that's where the explosive barrel myth comes from. If you leave the small cap off of a barrel of gasoline, and a spark goes anywhere near that hole, you're looking at a recipe for one big-ass explosion.

Trapped fumes from oil and petrol are dangerously flammable; in such high concentrations, they don't just ignite, they EXPLODE. And I'm willing to bet that futuristic starship fuel isn't any different.

...Hm. You know, I've been sitting here going through scenarios in my head, with an internal monolouge about explosives for a solid five minutes. Huh.

Weird.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Alright, here we are; backpath to the Eldfield-Ashland fuel refinery, one klick to the North-East." Our pilot called, as Shepard opened the hatch and hopped out...

I followed suit, landing on a planet that looks remarkably similar to some of the jungles I'd fought through in Korea... Mountains on the horizon, sound of water well in the distance, enviornment scanners show high C02 and nitrogen content in the air, with breathable oxygen percentage. High humidity, volatile fauna and wildlife... Basically a tropical-jungle planet.

"Area's clear..." Our shuttle took off, leaving the four of us on our own.

"Right... Our objective is one kilometre to the North-East; let's try to get there without tipping them off."

We all nodded. "Roger that. Tapping into Blue Suns communications..." Zaeed replied, tapping something out on his omni.

Within seconds...

"_...S likely these aren't runaways. Check it out._" An irate male voice came through our radio, eliciting a scowl from our Commander.

"Damnit. Well, that was a bust... Okay, new plan; run and gun. We hit 'em hard and fast, without time for them to react. And remember; these guys will have no qualms about executing the workers. Until we get those people out, leave no survivors. Less chance of them figuring out where we are."

I gave her a thumbs-up and started down the path, drawing my rifle as they fell into step just behind me...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Shot in the back and left to rot... Definately Vido's style." Our veteran muttered, looking over the bodies... Soldiers and civilians, stripped of equipment, executed, and tossed out like garbage. I wanna kill this sonofabitch already...

"Let's just get the rest of those workers out, before more end up like this." Shepard started off, checking her Avenger as she went... The rest of us followed suit, heading down a steep hill choked with plantlife, these little monkey-like things scampering out of our way and into the jungle.

"Damned pyjaks..." Zaeed was muttering again, something about the monkey-things. So they're called pyjaks? Huh. Looks more like a space monkey to me.

Anyway.

Down the hill and round the bend, we came to an impass... A checkpoint, chock-full of Blue Suns mercs. As I was on point, I had a few options.

1; hang back, defer to Shepard on our actions.

2; open fire, immediately surprising the enemy, likely eliminating many before they return fire.

3; attempt to sneak past them, possibly avoiding a contact, possibly getting ourselves caught under fire in the open.

4; stroll right by them, acting as if we belong here. Not the smartest option, but it's worked before.

I stopped, dropping to a knee with a simple hand signal. The others did the same, and I quietly deferred to Shepard. "Contact up ahead, unaware of our presence. Doubt we can get by without being spotted... Shall we engage, or go with plan B?"

She smirked with a raised eyebrow, already anticipating something humorous. "Plan B?"

"It's a surprise, Commander. Care to find out?"

Shaking her head with a sigh, she relented. "Go ahead, just try not to get yourself killed."

"Gotcha. Hang back unless you hear gunshots." And onward I stalked, creeping through the underbrush, drawing my knife... Time to put my skills to use.

It's fun-time.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Stalking through the jungle is... Hard to describe. Thrilling, I suppose, being able to get so close to my prey without their notice. I have a count of thirtteen mercenaries, two with rocket launchers, one carrying a flamethrower. Also one dog-mech, on the outskirts of the checkpoint.

Hmm...

How to go about this...

...

Got it... Nearest one, wait for it... He's got no helmet, smoking... Perfect mark. Wait for it...

The others looking? No.

Wait... And as he turns...

NOW!

I threw my knife, mentally reminding myself not to throw it too hard, otherwise it might trip his shields...

It was good. The steel split clean through his temple, the hilt smacking against his head with a wet, quiet *Thunk,* as he dropped to the ground not eight feet from me.

Quick as a blink, I dashed out, grabbing him by the collar, dragging the body back into the jungle...

After withdrawing my knife and putting out his cigarette, I froze, listening intently...

. . .

No alarms, no unusual activity... They haven't noticed... Heheheh. Good to go.

Oh, and before I do...

I rooted around in the pocket's the the merc's armor, searching... Where...

Aha! Got it. I found what looked like a pack of cigarettes, some kind of alloy carton with eleven of the sticks inside. There was a decal of a Volus(Rotund little midgets, always breathing heavy. They sound like Darth Vader's hypo-allergetic cousin) on the front, with the phrase 'Get some!' on it.

...Huh.

I stashed them in one of my cases, turning back to my hunt. Now... Twelve left...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard strained her ears, listening for sounds of a scuffle... Nothing, so far. Either Blade's taking his time, or he's REALLY good.

Several more minutes passed, with Zaeed starting to look more and more on-edge... Something was grating on him, but that can wait until later.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, She heard several of the mercs rushing towards a single point of the checkpoint, panicked voices crying out.

Grunt stood, but Shepard held up a hand... There've been no gunshots yet, and Blade can handle himself in this situation. But what was he...

Sounds of a fight broke out, of plates shattering and bones snapping, sounding very much like several somethings being crushed under the treads of a Mako. Starting to wonder just what the hell was going on, Shepard crept forward, peekign out around the thicket of fauna, seeing what was-

By the power of Greyskull... What the fuck?

Blade was fighting ten troopers in hand-to-hand, looking like a death-dealing whirlwind of pure chaos, throwing punches, kicks, swinging an omni-blade and bodily _slinging people _attatched to some kind of... Cable, that was connected to his wrist. There was one hanging from one of the catwalks, with an additional pair of them crushed beneath a Fenris mech a ways off, looking like he'd taken the thing and used it to maul them to death... His killcount was already at least eight, that Shepard could see.

And what was worse... His armor wasn't even emitting that light... He was doing this with his own ability, and as the last two were trying to run, dropping their weapons in terror, hauling ass a good thirty feet away, Blade just dropped the merc he'd impaled, tossing him aside and raising one of his arms...

A grappling hook of some sort shot out from the armor plating on his forearm, quick as a bullet, going clean through the one's arm, yanking him back. But instead of killing him... Blade then reared back, and slung him through the air... Within moments, he must have collided with the other one, before a great splash signalled their hitting a body of water.

"...Goddamn..." Zaeed mumbled, just behind her. His jaw was hanging, before he started grinning like mad.

...It was a rather disturbing sight.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I dusted my hands off, retrieving my knives as I heard footsteps behind me...

Thankfully, I checked my motion sensor before killing them, because they showed up as a friendly.

"I think you missed that last one."

I turned as I resheathed my knife, finding Shepard standing behind me with a smirk.

"Nah, I knocked him and his buddy into the water over yonder." I gestured down said path, where a waist-high guardrail could be seen, with a brand-new dent in its rusted surface. "Somehow, I doubt either of them can swim in full kit. Let alone with cracked ribs."

She was shaking her head, looking at the carnage around us...

"So, is this how you usually operate, or are you just showing off?"

With a shrug, I responded, "That depends. Are you turned on by a man who can kill someone with a lettuce?"

. . .

"...A lettuce?" She parroted, blinking.

"Yes, a lettuce. Don't ask, it wasn't pretty." Judging from her expression...

...I think she took my word for it.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After the others caught up, we headed further down the path, to a small waterfall, with a chasm between us and the remainder of the path. I daresay the bastards I threw down had to've fallen some eighty, ninety feet. Heheh.

Anyway. Shepard began working a console to get us a way across,(It was some fifteen to twenty feet. Can't jump that without problems. Well, I could, but them... Not so much) and even more of the Blue Suns Commander came over the radio.

"_South checkpoint, report._"

...they neglected to answer, seeing as they were all dead. Heheh.

"_South checkpoint, respond! Someone answer me, goddamnit!_"

Still nothing, but he was pissed.

"_Fuck! Whoever they are, they're coming from the south! All squads mass at the southern gatehouse, and if I find just one of you cocksuckers falling back, I'll kill you myself!_" ...Well, he certainly isn't getting the boss of the year award.

"...Vido... Looks like he hasn't changed a bit." Zaeed muttered, a scowl etched into his scarred visage.

Shepard halted the extend-a-bridge, snidely remarking, "Sounds like he needs to get shot..."

"Damn straight. He was a ruthless whoreson back when we started the Suns... And they just got meaner after he staged his little coup twenty years ago." Well, mister Massani sounds pissed. Guess that explains why half his face looks like someone half-assedly glued it on.

Shepard blinked, hard. "You started the Blue Suns? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because it's not common knowledge. Vido wiped me out of the records. Back when, he ran the books, I lead the men. It worked real well for a while... Then he started hiring Batarians. Cheaper labor, he said. Goddamn terrorists, I said." As he shook his head, I get the feeling he was mentally chiming, _"Vido will rue the day he fucked up my handsome face!"_

Shepard crossed her arms, a hard to describe look on her face. "Twenty years is a long time to hold a grudge..." She was either purposely fishing for more backstory, or just fucked up bad. You DO NOT question a man's reasons for wanting to kill someone for revenge.

"A grudge? A grudge?!" The mercenary was fuming, I could practically see steam coming out of his ears. It was rather entertaining.

"He turned my men against me! He paid six of 'em, to hold me down while he put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger! For twenty years I've seen that bastard every time I closed my eyes, every time I sighted in on a target, every time I heard a gunshot. Don't you call that a goddamned grudge." See what I mean? After a moment he calmed down somewhat,(I was starting to worry he'd have a stroke if he got too worked up) before Shepard asked an obvious question.

"...You survived a gunshot to the head?" She parroted, and I was having a helluva time trying not to chuckle. I think Grunt was, too.

"Yeah... And you survived having your ship disintigrated; a stubborn enough person can survive just about anything. Rage is a hell of an anesthetic."

I interjected right about... Here. "True enough. I survived being frozen for a century and a half with my sanity largely intact."

Cue the three of them turning to stare holes in me.

. . .

"...What? What did I say?"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I gave a wolf whistle, looking the gate up and down. "Very nice... Even looks reinforced. Think they'll open up if we knock and ask nicely?"

Sheaprd chuckled, and pressed one of the buttons on the holo- Er, haptic console. "Not really."

...The gate began to open, the foot-thick steel slabs sliding to either side, revealling a rusted steel courtyard or foyer area, without a roof. As we entered, we looked up, and above us on a balcony of some sort, were several Blue Suns mercs, with a single one standing there without a helmet. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, hispanic, with olive skin and dark hair. Maybe he's Italian? Huh.

"Zaeed Massani... So you've finally tracked me down." Yep, this is Vido. Same snide, irritating voice as was on the radio.

"Vido..." Zaeed reached up, grasping the stock of his rifle.

Vido's eyes widened, and he seemed to take a half-step back. "Don't be stupid, Massani. I've got a whole company of bloodthirsty bastards behind me, every one of them ready to kill or be killed on my command."

He seemed to pause for a moment, taking in our appearance before sneering, "Actually, go ahead and take your shot, give my men a reason to put you down like the mad dog you are... Again."

The veteran's eye twitched, and in a blink, he had his rifle to his shoulder, putting rounds right by the prick's head, striking a pipe just behind. The entire time, he was moving towards the left, while the rest of us dashed forward, ducking behind several large steel pipes for cover.

Once Zaeed stopped firing for a moment, Vido stopped covering his face and sneered once more. "What the hell was that? Gone near-sighted, old friend?"

I noticed the old man smirking. "Burn, you son of a bitch..." And he fired once more...

***Boom!***

Aha! so that's what he did! He struck the pipe to get a source of fuel, and struck a spark to... Ah. Gotcha.

"You just signed your death warrant, Massani!" Vido limped off, while his goons started firing. The three of us behind the pipes crouched down a bit lower, hoping that there wasn't anything flammable in them.

*Ba-TANG! Ba-TANG!* The sudden sound of heavy metal-on-metal impacts drew my attention, and I looked to see-

Zaeed was bashing his rifle against a large valve, attatched to an even larger pipe.

. . .

Hokay, I'm not all that smart, but it doesn't take rocket surgery to figure this out.

One; he started a fire to burn the guy he hates.

Two; he's pretty ruthless, so he probably doesn't care all that much about the refinery workers.

Three; he's mucking around with a large valve in a fuel refinery when there's a fire.

Ah, shit.

***BABADALOOOOMSHCKA!***(Shitty sound effects, I know) The entire facility shook, the ground beneath our feet quaking like the worst tremors you'd ever experience in California, knocking Shepard on her ass as both Grunt and I steadied ourselves on the pipes we'd used as makeshift cover.

I pulled myself to my feet, seeing that the troopers that had previously been setting their sights on us were now in pieces- Litterally. There were flames burning here and there,(More like everywhere) wait, shit! I could hear explosions around the entire refinery!

"Fuck!"

Shepard was cursing just behind me, clamboring after Zaeed. "Damnit, Zaeed! What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Opening the gate."

. . .

If you expect me to laugh at that, you are gravely mistaken. Shepard was not amused.

"Next time, warn me before you blow something up! Now c'mon, we've got a burning refinery to save!" She started off, sprinting through what used to be the secondary gate; it was now a smoldering heap.

Two more Blue Suns troopers were just fifteen feet away, one helping the other with a bleeding stump that used to be his- No, her, leg. Poor bastard.

I half-expected the one to jump up and start shooting at us, but no, he was more interested in fixing the woman's leg. Her features were twisted in agony, mouth conformed into a silent scream...

We mvoed past them, as several far-off explosions rocked the refinery. I hit the door controls, about to step inside when-

"HELP!" Someone screamed, and I turned to see a lone man wearing a different outfit, atop the large pipe we''d passed under not a moment ago.

"We're trapped and we can't get to the gas valves to shut them off! The whole place is gonna blow!" ***BA-DOOMSHCKA!*** Another explosion tore through the massive tower, as if to emphasize his point.

Damnit...

Zaeed turned to Shepard, growling, "No time! I'm not sticking around to watch, 'cuz If we stop to help these people, Vido gets away!"

She returned his glare with an icey one of her own. "Are you willing to watch these people die? Just for your selfish revenge?!"

"Damned right I am! I spent twenty years of my life hunting down his sorry ass, and I am not wasting it by letting him go free!" He would probably go and try to kill the guy by himself...

Fuck.

Before Shepard could reply, Grunt rumbled, "Shepard, we can't get to the gas shutoff quick enough. Those people are dead anyway... No sense getting ourselves killed for nothing."

I started for the guardrail, as Shepard called, "Blade? Where are you going?"

Glancing back over my shoulder I shot back, "To save those people. You take the others and gut that bastard, I'll get the valves."

***BA-DOOOOOOOSHCKAaaaa!*** A particularly nasty explosion rattled the entire facility, prompting Shepard to reply,

"No! Going off on your own through that is suicide!"

I couldn't help chuckling, as I started off again. "There is nothing in this world or any other, that can kill a Marine. Now get going!"

...Then I jumped over the rail, rolling along the steel grating, tear-assing through the flaming refinery...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"VI! Locate and highlight the gas valves!"

_Understood, operator. Scanning now..._

I dashed through a burning room, using my momentum to kick down a busted door, then went through another burning room. Explosions rocked the place every few moments, and nearly every pipe I saw had flames coming out of it.

I smacked the console of the next door, stepping thr-

***BOOMSHCKA!*** Before getting bodily thrown forward, instinctively rolling with the impact and landing in a crouch. A quarter of my shields were depleted, and a warning flashed in the corner.

_High temperature enviornment; advise you maintain suit hard-seal to prevent injury._

Just ahead of me, was a computer console, connected to a large vertical pipe.

_Operator, that is one of the fuel shutoff valves. Manual interface required._

Crap.

I dashed towards it, ignoring the roilign flames not five feet away. Oddly enough, I wasn't even warm... Lucky me.

At the console, my omni lit up, and I waved it past the screen... Within moments, my suit's VI gave a response.

_System analysed; shutting off flow of flammable material..._

The nearby flames died out, clearing my path, and I started off for the next one.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_Operator, civilian workers are caught inside; the system will not allow evacuation until the fires have been quelled._

Fuck!

there were at least a dozen of them, banging against a glass observation window, as I worked another console. The flames went out,a nd I dashed across another overpass, before running up _another_ flight of stairs.

The next area was-

***BOOM!***

...Well, it was a simple walkway, but now it had a massive ball of flame in the dead center. Fuck.

I could go around, which would be another minute of running, or I could juuust...

Fuckit.

I ran head-on, and dived through the flames... before landing hard on the other side of them, feeling only slightly warm. Heheh.

After hopping to my feet and smacking the next door, I moved to a small computer sitting on a desk.

_Console requires manual input to activate sprinkler system._

Great...

I hit one of the haptic keys, finding a massive window open that said EMERGENCY, flashing bright red.

Huh.

Under it, was a button laballed '_Fire Countermeasures.'_

I tapped that, and within moments, I could hear water raining down...

I moved towards the nearby observation window, and saw the sprinklers were, indeed, working. Below, several of the workers were grinning from ear to ear, heading for a door that just opened.

Good. Time to get back to work.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After dropping down from a balcony, I started moving through the refinery, finding that most of it was still burning.

Huh. I moved quickly through several rooms, finding dozens of dead mercs along the way. Four, five... Six rooms, before I entered a MASSIVE area, with several large fuel tanks. Bodies littered the ground, most of them on fire. Eh.

I casually moved through the area, now ignoring the rampant explosions... They reminded me of the ever-present mortars and artillery I'd grown used to in the Corps.

Not a single merc left... Huh.

'_This is looking too easy,_' I thought, just as I crossed a small bridge past a destroyed YMIR mech. I hit the console on a large door, just as a hissing sound set my nerves on edge...

I turned, just in time to see-

***BADOOOMSHCK!***

Ow.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Fry, you son of a bitch..." And he ejected the clip from his pistol, turning away, as it landing in the puddle of fuel Vido had fallen in...

***FWOOSH!***

The flames caught, and as the burning man screamed, Zaeed smiled...

"Ah- AHH- **AAAAAAGGGHHHHH...!"**

It was the most disturbing sight Shepard had ever witnessed.

The tank next to Vido exploded, silencing him... That's when another, larger explosion shook the entire refinery again, and Shepard turned to see the building shaking and quaking... It was time to get out of here.

But where's...

***BA-DOOMSHCK!*** One last explosion sent the door they'd just exited flying a good hundred feet away, flames bursting out of the doorway.

Yep, definately time to be leaving.

Shepard looked around once more as Grunt etched another notch on his shotgun, before activating her radio. "Pilot, we need a pick-up, now. Blade, where are you?"

"_On my way, Commander._" But it was only her pilot's voice that answered... The silence that followed was more unsettling than usual.

But soon... Something happened...

**[Cue music; Fireproof, by Pillar. Oh, you knew it was coming, shut up]**

Out of the flames, a silhouette appeared...

A human-shaped silhouette.

"I'm right here, Shepard... As I always will be." His voice called to her... Or at least, she thought he said that... The Commander was having a hard time figuring out if he'd said something or not, as the roaring flames drowned out everything else.

He approached, patting down the residual flames that licked at his arms, his armor's jet-black color scheme highlighting his silhouette, appearing even more frightening than normal... It was even more disturbing than Zaeed's expression at having burned a man alive.

That's when something struck her; his armor... It was designed to strike fear in the hearts of others...

"Something wrong, Shepard?" His voice brought her back to reality, and she realised she'd been staring at him.

"...No, nothing. C'mon, shuttle's almost here. You get those workers out?"

"Every one of 'em accounted for. Judging from the stupid look on Zaeed's face, I take it that burning corpse over yonder is Vido?"

She nodded, smirking when she also got a look at Zaeed. "Yep. He does look rather happy, for a man who just burned someone alive."

Blade chuckled darkly, nudging Shepard's side. "Heh, guy looks like he just about jizzed his pants. I figured either he finally killed the son of a bitch, or you just gave him the blowjob of a lifetime."

Shepard turned and opened her mouth to give a witty retort when he finished his dirty joke.

"But then again, that'd probably give the old bastard a heart attack, eh?"

Shepard playfully slapped his shoulder,(Knowing that if she punched him, all she'd accomplish is breaking her hand) snarking, "You'd like to know, wouldn't you?"

"I would indeed, though with a more fitting test subject... Someoen younger, a control group, if you will. Though I've gotta admit, I don't know which would be better to make his day; fulfilling his quest for revenge, or getting an awesome blowjob. Hm. Wanna ask him?"

...Shepard had no response for that, but couldn't help laughing along with him. His sense of humor was beyond fucked up, but damn if it wasn't contagious...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Can you find the Fable 3 shout-out in this chapter?**_

_**There's also a pretty obvious Hot Fuzz joke in here, or if you prefer, a geek joke. Heheh.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"...and an old German guy said there was a bit of an unsaid joke about the Nazi salute; apparently when they clicked their heels and raised their arm up in the air, they were saying, _we're in this much sh_t._"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"**The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he is on**."  
― _**Joseph Heller, Catch-22**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Most men are okay with their wives fantasizing about Travis Haley during sex, because they are doing the same thing.**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Any problem in the world can be solved by the proper application of duct tape, WD-40, or high explosives." **-_Kneedragger650_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Rangers lead the way; Right behind the Marines! OORAH!"**_** -Unofficial saying of the USMC Force Recon. Damned if it ain't true, my brothers. Oorah.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Chris Costa doesn't have a chin beneath his beard... Only another AR15.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**They once made a Travis Haley toilet paper, but it wouldn't take shit from anyone.**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**If you heard that shot, you were not my target.**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#10 _**Jumping feetfirst into hell**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Just getting back onto the ship, the four of us went our seperate ways from the elevator. I hopped off on deck 3 with Zaeed, as we both went to grab a bite to eat. He was ecstatic, still grinning from ear-to-ear.

The Sarge took one look at him, and said, "What, d'ja go and get your knob polished, mister Massani?"

I nudged the veteran's side, snickering. "Effectively. You should'a seen him earlier, he was waltzing around looking like he'd gotten the blowjob of a lifetime." Even our picking didn't bother the bounty hunter in the least, as he was still smiling.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you two. Just gimme a Thessia Red, today's a day to celebrate."

Our mess Sergeant procured the alchohol and food, before the two of us made for the elevator. I went back down to the hold, while Zaeed returned to his own room.

Jack was nowhere to be found, oddly enough. Huh.

Anywho, I removed my helmet and ate, setting the tray aside to be returned later. I stretched out on the rack, just about ready to fall asleep when-

"_Blade, I need you in the meeting room ASAP._" Shepard's voice came over the comms, and I sighed, getting to my feet.

"Can't ever get any shuteye around here..."

Pulling my helmet into place, I started for the stairs, feeling rather annoyed...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"So this is the Collector ship..." Mordin mused, looking over the holographic structure.

"Hmph. One thing right after another, eh, Shepard?" Zaeed smirked, looking like a man at the top of his game, or just won a huge bet over the superbowl.

...Or who just got an AWESOME blowjob.

"Unfortunately... We don't have time to think this through carefully. We're going in once we're in orbit." Shepard looked tense, as she watched the map display with intent...

Hmm...

"Shepard," I prompted, and she looked up, right into my visor. "I think now would be a good time to test out that system I mentioned."

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she stroked her chin, and asked, "You have a reason for wanting to do a beta on that now?"

Shrugging, "Now's a good a time as any. Getting the shuttle from orbit to our destination will take at least an extra six minutes. I can burn in and hit the ground in under three."

Sardonically, she replied back, "Yeah, and leave a nice red stain all over the colony. We don't know if that system was meant for orbital drop, or from aircraft-height."

I nodded. "All the more reason to test it out now. EDI ran the simulations; it should be good to go. And if it works this time, then we'll have that option in the future. Besides, the faster we get boots on the ground, the better. The more time the Collectors spend fighting us, the less time they have to abduct colonists."

Shepard sighed, relenting. "Very well. We don't have time to be arguing about this anyway... EDI. Calculate the coordinates to drop him in, and get Joker briefed."

"Understood, Shepard." EDI's synthetic voice called, just before Shepard continued.

"The rest of you, get locked and loaded, we'll be there soon. Grunt, Jack, Zaeed, Garrus, Jacob, you're all with me. Miranda, take charge of the ship, and Mordin, I need those countermeasures ready an hour ago. Blade, get equipped and to the airlock. Let's get moving, people." Those she named nodded their consent, turning to leave.

As I walked out, I heard Shepard call, "You better not get yourself killed, you hear me?"

Smirking, I threw a look over my shoulder, responding, "Didn't I tell you? There is nothing in this world or any other, that can kill a Marine."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After taking care of the necessities,(Ie, letting mordin stick this weird-ass thing to the back of my helmet. My VI found that it was also monitoring my combat effectiveness) I dropped by the armory and grabbed my Mantis, checked my gear right quick, then moved to the bridge, standing by next to the airlock.

"...Uh, Blade, just so you know, you're completely insane. But don't worry, we love you anyway." Joker, well... Joked, shaking his head.

"Common knowledge, Joker. Try not to drop me in the latrine, I just finished polishing this armor." I snarked back, whereas he turned in his seat and gave me a half-assed salute.

"Really got your priorities straight, huh? You're the bravest of us all, ya crazy bastard. How in the hell did you convince Shepard to go along with this, anyway...?" My turn to shrug.

"No fucking clue. But I'm going in before she grows a conscience and changes her mind."

"...Yeah, you're a real adrenaline junkie, aren'tcha?"

"Again, common knowledge, Joker. How long until the drop point?"

Shaking his head, he turned back to his console. "Four minutes. Shuttle's out in five."

"Alright... In I go. Let's bring the thunder, Joker." The airlock hatch opened, and I stepped inside, cracking my neck. For some reason... I knew I would survive. I knew that this was the reason the suit was made...

I knew that THIS was what I was intended to do.

Inside, the lights shut off after a moment...

"All heat signatures have been removed, to prevent the Collector ship from detecting us. Drop coordinates in T-minus two minutes, fifteen seconds."

Alright... I set in, taking a knee, tensing up. This was gonna be the dumbest, most foolhearty thing I've ever done... Might as well do it in style.

Once more... I found myself thinking back, remembering...

**'**_**I feel like lightning...'**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**[Cue Music; Fading Away, by Demon Hunter; Album, Storm the Gates of Hell]**

The airlock opened, and EDI's synthetic voice reminded me, "Drop in twelve seconds. Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four.

Three.

Two.

One... JUMP!"

I dashed forward, my vision changing once again...

Giving a great leap, I fell back onto muscle memory, spreading my limbs to slow my descent and change direction...

All around me, darkness... Everything in shades of grey.

Heavy, dark clouds... Flashes of light, of pure static electricity. I could feel more than hear the thunder rolling...

On my visor, several new screens appeared as beeps and other sounds sounded in my helmet, before vanishing, a series of large, glowing rings appearing in their place...

They were getting bigger... Closer. Aha. So they're for tracking my descent, making sure I hit my target.

I shifted right, going dead-center through the first... Second... Third, fourth, fifth. A dozen or so more, and now it was a straight drop.

Tucking in my arms and legs, I angled myself straight down... Flying like a bullet. Less wind resistance, faster drop...

_Terminal velocity reached._

An indicator on my visor alerted me to how fast I was dropping, as well as my current altitude. Three thousand, four hundred metres.

Descent brake must be used after 1300, but before 900...

Alright... Timing.

Fifteen seconds...

I counted down, waiting, watching...

Another indicator appeared.

_Eight second window of braking height._

_Begin on voice command. _

Just as my altitude dropped below 1200, "Deploy airbrakes," I said, and like before...

My body moved of its own accord, flipping over with arms held outward, and I felt my whole body jerked upward by my chest, my fall slowing down...

I heard thrusters just behind me, and I'm assuming that's what the thing meant by airbrakes. Huh... Uhh... I, ah, wasn't slowing down very much... Well, I was falling slower than a blowling ball, at least.

...Still very much fast enough to go splat.

Staring straight down as I fell, I could make out... Something like a small town... Or village...

Off-white buildings, square-ish with green grass, clear blue water, and small ant-like creatures moving around...

Oh, shit!

Within moments, those tiny squares were getting a helluva lot bigger! And those ants were PEOPLE!

_Brace for impact._

...Fuck me.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I was falling straight to a spot of green, not twenty metres from several of people moving in a line.

The suit forced my body to move again, this time tucking into a ball, somersaulting as I fell...

Before hitt-

***CRA-LOOOOSHCKAaaa...***

...

Ow.

Friggin' OW!

What the hell... Felt like I just got fuckin' sucker-punched all over my entire body by a freight train.

Forcing my eyes open, I saw I was...

...Well, on the ground. In a bloody crater.

Huh.

The parts of myself I could see... My armor was glowing, red-hot. Huh.

Shifting, I got into a crouch, getting to my feet... Nothing broken or dislocated. All systems copacetic.

Dust and debris was all around... Couldn't see two feet in front of my faceplate.

Within seconds, my armor stopped glowing, but I could still faintly see steam coming off its surface...

Hm. Very nice, I didn't even feel warm. I was in a four-foot deep crater, three feet across...

Under my feet, the ground crunched; glass... Hm. After pulling myself out of said hole, I activated my thermal imaging to see through the dust...

...Shit...

No people... But...

Large, bipedal insects, carrying weapons of some sort... Collectors.

And... Some kind of large pod... Thermal showed it wasn't very warm, but had something warm inside it... Something-

Human-shaped! They were rounding people up in pods! Damnit...!

I reached up, pulling my rifle, setting it to my shoulder...

Horizon is a human colony... So anything else is...

A moving target.

*Chk!*

"Just call me Dale the Exterminator..."

_...I hope you have a good lawyer, because CRI cases are a bitch.._

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"_Krssschrrckzz..._" Static was the only thing I heard through my comm for several seconds, before Shepard's voice shined through. "_Kshrr..Dh... Blade! You- Ksshhhrrrzz..._" Too much interference for proper communication... Damn.

"This is Blade. Drop successful. Now eliminating targets..." I set my sights on the first insect outline, flicking my weapon to full-auto...

Bang.

I tugged the trigger, putting out a five-count burst, snapping my sights onto the next, and the one after. Badabang-Badabang-Badabangbangbang.

Three more down.

Last one...

Whoa!

It fired... Some sorta lazer, almost wildly, as it came nowhere near me.

I opened fire, ejecting the clip as I did so, seeing as the first twelve shots connected with a personal shield; the next few rounds ate through the fucker's head.

Check-check... They were all on the ground, unmoving.

_Hostiles neutralized; cleared to procede._

I dashed forward through the dust, heading for the pod they'd been transporting...

Kneeling by it, I deactivated thermal with a thought, looking over the thing...

Big, green, with some kind of glass plate over the front... Inside...

A woman, wearing a green jumpsuit, similar to the Cerberus BDU outfit the crewmen wore. She looked to be unconscience. Ah... How...

_Unknown biological technology; seek alternative methods of access._

Fuckit. I am not leaving her in there. I drew my knife, stabbing into the seam along the side of the damned thing, forcing it in and jimmying it up and down, prying the pod open...

Took a few moments, but I had it. Once I could fit my fingers under, I got ahold and ripped the top off, grabbing the woman by her top and pulling her out, laying her out on the ground.

"Hey... Hey! You alive? Wake up!"

...

Her eyes fluttered... Before shooting wide open, and she was about to scream, when I clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Shh! Quiet... You're safe for now, but I need your help. What's your name?" I slowly removed my hand, listening, looking around and checking for enemies...

_I detect no hostile lifeforms within a eighty metre radius; now redirecting excess power to motion sensor. Range increased to one hundred and sixty metres... _

Well, that's cool.

"C-c-Chris..." She was stuttering, violently shaking.

"Alright, Chris. My name is Blade. I'm here to help, but I'm outnumbered and I don't know the area; is there any kind of air defense system for shooting down ships, or some kind of security system, anything?"

She nodded shakily, still scared shitless. "Th-there's a big d-defense canon in the s-center of the colony, but... N-n-no one's fixed the targeting system for it..."

_Confirmed; hostiles marked as "Collectors" located in groups of twelve or less, towards the north-east, closer to the center of the colony. I have also found more pods, some filled with colonists, others empty. I will attempt to reestablish communications with Normandy, and contact EDI for assistance in repairing the targeting protocols._

Hmph. Good enough. "It's more than I had a minute ago... Alright. Chris, I want you to go and hide. Keep your head down and stay out of sight until that ship is gone. Okay?"

She nodded, scrambling to her feet before running in the opposite direction. Huh... I stood and turned, rifle in hand, knife sheathed.

Time to go to work.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

My comm device activated with a thought, and I spoke, trying to get through to the others. "Shepard, the enemy seems to be using directed-energy weapons. Handheld lazers of some sort, so watch out. There's a large, anti-ship cannon in the center of the colony; I'll rendezvous with you there, over and out."

_Communications are unavailable for the time being, Blade. Reccommend you get to higher ground. _

Lovely...

I jogged through the area, between buildings and towards the colony's center, keeping a careful eye on my motion tracker and the rooftops.

Nothing so far...

On the tracker, enemies showed to be to my north, a group of four.

_Nine contacts, Operator; more are slightly further, off the sensor due to regular energy input. Advise you scale the three-story building twenty-three metres to your north-west, and use the vantage point to eliminate targets._

Well, this thing can plan, too... Nice.

The building in question, was white, blockish, and rather easy to climb. I sped up a bit, turning through the winding areas between the structures, before giving a great leap when I was ten feet away, flying a good sixty feet in the air...

And rolling with the impact when I landed, rising to a crouch. I moved closer to the edge of the building, shouldering my rifle, looking down upon the squad of Collectors...

Eight of them together, marching... One more, well away from them. Hmph.

Dropping to prone, I looked downscope, watching them... Range is sixty-one yards, they are unaware, and I've got the high ground...

Time to bring the paid.

The scope adjusted itself, changing from 1x to 3x, allowing for perfect peripheral and battlefield awareness. I set my sights on the rear of the group... Now to wait...

They're in position... Wait for it... Wait for it...

I squeezed the trigger until it broke, and a single shot cracked through the air...

Two of the Collectors dropped, and I was already firing again and again... Three more down for the count. Four to go. The buggers were looking back and forth, panicking... Can they not see me this far out? Huh.

Maybe they can't hear so well... Or can't detect the origins of distant sounds. Either way.

Aha! As I fired another round, I saw a blue field light up, signifying that I'd finally found one with shields. Flicking the selector to auto, I held the trigger for a twelve-count burst, and both he and the dumbass next to him hit the dirt, yellow blood flying. Good.

A beam of some sort flew thirty feet above my head, and I set my sights on the one bastard who'd shot back... There. Taking cover inside of a house...

I set my M8 aside, reached back and pulled up my Mantis, the weapon automatically unfolding itself as I pulled it to my shoulder.

With a thought, my thermal vision activated, and I scanned the walls of the building... There he was. Next to a doorway... Aiming carefully, I fired a single shot, and watched as a tiny hole appeared in the wall of the building, while the Collector on the other side dropped dead.

Nice.

I racked the bolt, and set in on the others...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Ducking, Shepard growled as yet another near-miss whacked the wall next to her head. "Garrus! Where's that bastard hiding?!"

***POWFUHL!***

"In hell." The turian sniped, reloading his rifle.

**"**_**ShePaRD...**_**"** That damned talking Collector started up again, and she growled.

"Someone shut that fucker up..."

Zaeed had the rocket launcher in his hand on the other side of the building, leaning out of the doorway. "On it."

And as he fired, the explosion and heat tore through the air, defeaning the woman for several seconds, as the older man shouted, "Good effect on target!"

"Right. How many more?"

Grunt answered. "One..." ***Pow!*** "And none."

Nodding, Shepard glanced outside, looking over the area...

Plenty of bodies, and she looked to where Jacob and Jack were taking cover. "Jacob! You good?" She shouted, and saw the man stick a hand outside, giving a thumbs-up.

"Alright. Move out, and keep your heads swinging, there's bound to be more."

Stepping outside, Garrus glanced left and right. "I thought we would've seen more of the colonists by now..."

"Probably already on the Collector ship. Damned bugs..." Zaeed grunted, ejecting the clip from his rifle, digging it into the ground with the heel of his boot.

"Damnit... Hope Blade's right about that cannon..." His last transmission was broken to pieces, but they'd heard soemthing about a cannon in the center of the colony...

Pushing onward, Shepard moved, the six of them stacking up on a large gate...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I pulled myself up, flipping my leg up and rolling onto the roof, moving to the edge of the four-story structure...

I practically strained my eyes, looking towards the center of the colony... It was at least a kilometre away, probably more.

_One thousand, four hundred and twenty-six metres, Operator. Reccommend use of M92 Mantis for effictive engagement of targets._

No, shit. More than a mile.

Looking hard, my visor lit up once more, and a window appeared, this one showing a magnified view... Alright, something useful.

Magnification increased from 5x to 18x...

Perfect...

Whoa... There's Shepard and co, working a console of some sort... Must be for the big guns...

But- Fuck!(THAT didn't sound wrong at all, oh no...) There were more of those grey-and-blue zombie bastards! Damnit...

I reached back and pulled my Mantis, setting it to my shoulder as I dropped to prone... Not a very good sightline, but it'll do.

"Shepard, you've got some kinda glowing, blue cybernetic freaks moving on your position! They're coming from the west, repeat, they're coming in from the west, at least a dozen of 'em!"

C'mon... Hope the radio works...

C'mon...

"_...Ade? Blade? Iszzz... ou? Sh- Fzzzshhchterrrzzz..._" More static cut off her voice, as distant gunfire assaulted my ears...

Damnit.

Taking a breath, I steadied myself against the roof, setting a finger on the trigger, and looking downscope...

"Bring the thunder..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard released her weapon hand, snatching the pistol from her side, raising it and tugging the trigger twice, putting a double-tap in the nearest husk's head.

Holstering it and reloading her rifle, she fired again and again, putting down husk after husk...

Her eyes shot wide open as she saw something that horrified her...

One of the bastard was rushing her old friend, blindsiding the turian! He was in the middle of throwing off a different one, jamming his gun under its chin... In that instant where her heartrate skyrocketed and she set her sights-

*_Ker-Splutchtsh!*___The husk's head exploded, and several seconds later,

***POWFUHL!...*** As the gunshot sounded, something struck her.

That shot was taken by a top-notch sniper, and they just saved her friend's hide. From more than a kilometre away, judging from how long it took for the sound to reach them...

Garrus looked behind him, seeing the dead husk.

"Huh... Guess I owe someone a drink," He casually remarked, as he pulled the trigger of his sidearm, killing the husk he'd been tangling with.

Suddenly, out of nowhere...

"_Bring the thunder..._" Blade's voice came over the radio, just as-

Several of the remaining husks dropped, hitting the ground with heads showing various amounts of gore, then-

***P-P-P-POWOWOWFUHHLLL!...*** More than four shots in such a short period of time, all of them dead-on...

"Amazing..." Shepard couldn't help muttering, as yet even more of the creepy bastards hit the ground.

After a moment, she grinned. "Right, you heard him! Let's kick some ass!"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I racked the bolt again, as the indicator in my helmet alerted me that this was my last shot.

"Right... Better make this one count..."

Breathe in, breathe out...

Carefully setting my sights, I took aim at the first Collector that came over the wall, and gently squeezed the trigger...

The recoil didn't even rock my shoulder, as I gripped the rifle hard enough to keep it entirely still. The nanoweave in my left arm had stiffened, keeping my aim steady, the entire suit working in tandem with my body to make the most accurate shots possible.

It was awesome.

I ejected the clip, pulled the rifle back and opened the compartment, reaching for the cases on the front of my armor. Flipping it open, I had four stripper clips of thermal clips, each holding six. I pulled two, and loaded them into the rifle's magazine, twisting the forend back into place and setting the stock to my shoulder in the same movement.

Tugging the charging handle back, I let it slam forward, took a breath, and aimed once more...

Fourteen targets... One of them-

Whoa. One was glowing with some kinda light... Shepard and several of the others were hauling ass away from it, looking decidedly panicked. hokay, good enough reason to drop his ass.

Breathe in, breathe out...

One, smooth movement.

***POWFUHL!***

A single shot, and I racked the bolt, taking aim at my next target, blowing the head off another bugger, before noticing that-

That the glowing one had just been knocked down. He got back up! Fuck!

Rack and reacquire... Wonder how many rounds I can put in him before he hears that first shot?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"**_**SHepArd... ThIs HuRtS yOu...**_**" **

Out of nowhere, Harbringer was bodily thrown, knocked to the ground. As it got back up, four more shots impacted its body, draining its barriers and going clean throgh whatever armor encompassed its carapace... The entire thing started disintegrating, making the veteran grin.

"I owe you one, Blade!" She called over the radio as the gunshots just now made their way to them.

"_I accept payment in the forms of favors, alchohol and blowjobs. Visa and Mastercard are also acceptable._" He snarked, their radios finally working, after the swarms had left the area.

Garrus snickered next to her, nudging her side as he ejected another clip. "Don't know what those last two are, but the third one is probably your best bet, Shepard."

"Hilarious..." Rolling her eyes, Shepard couldn't suppress a smirk. He was pretty funny, her favorite deadpanning turian.

"Go with the Alchohol, Shepard! Once he gets started, he won't stop! Guy's like a fuckin' machine!" Jack shouted, blasting a Collector that was trying to crawl away.

...Like a machine, huh?

"_...Like a machine, huh? I don't remember hearing YOU complaining!_"

Another pair of Collectors dropped dead, a single shot going through both of them.

Zaeed busted out laughing, nearly choking. "So THAT was why you were walking bow-legged! Hah!"

Jacob was shaking his head with a wry smile, reloading his shotgun. "Good to see everyone has their priorities straight..."

"Hmph. All humans must have the same sense of humor..." The sole krogran grunted, stomping the head of a still-twitching husk.

"_Not all of us... Miranda doesn't have one._"

Out of nowhere, "_Got that right!" _Joker's voice came over the comms, and you could practically hear the smirk etched into his bearded face.

...Closely follwed by the Cerbeus officer in question, sounding none too pleased.

"_I HEARD that._"

Then Blade came back once more... "_Good. Didn't want you to feel left out..._"

Everyone on the ground chuckled, sans Grunt, who didn't understand the joke.

Eh, win some lose some.

**"**_**ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL**_**"**

Fuck.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After putting down another of the glowing bastards, the massive gun batteries around the colony stated moving, shooting up at the massive Collector ship. Heheh, for the win, asshole.

And another weird thing happened. Something big, bulky and blowing bright blue flew out of that ship, directly towards Shepard!

"Shepard! Something big inbound!"

"_I see it! CONTACT!-_" Her voice broke off, as the giant thing attacked them...

It looked like... Some kind of insect. Big and black, lotta arms... Floating... Huh.

I took aim, and started firing...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

As the thing died, a horrible screeching pierced the air, defeaning Shepard and everyone she was with, making them cringe... And it disintigrated before their very eyes, the monstrous thing disappearing entirely.

"Damn... The hell was that..."

Another sound got their attention. Up above them, the Collecotr ship fired up and took off, leaving us on the planet with just our dicks in our hands, as Blade would say.

"_Fuck... They're gone, Commander. I'm moving to your location now, Shepard._"

"No... No! Damnit, half the colony's in there! Sam, Lilith an-" The civilian they found earlier choked as he paced back and forth, venting, ranting, panicking... Shepard didn't blame him one bit.

"Fuck! Damn the Alliance! This is all their fault, putting that damned gun tower here... And you! Why didn't you stop them?!" He was glaring at her now, tears in his eyes...

She shook her head, feeling tired... "There's nothing we could do... I don't have a ship capable of destroying it, and we got here too late to stop them. I'm sorry."

"What?! That- That's it?! You're sorry?! those people are gone, dead! Hundreds!"

She just shook her head. "I did what I could."

Shepard felt a hand on her shoulder, a familiar, comforting gesture. "More than anyone else, Shepard."

"Wait. Shepard... I know that name." His eyes fixated on her just then, as dawning comprehension lit them up. "Yeah, I know you... Some kinda big Alliance hero, died two years back..."

Out from behind a crate, a familiar voice sounded, bringing an even more familiar face along with it. "Commander Shepard, captain of the Normandy, the first human Spectre, savior of the Citadel..."

Shepard eyes shot wide, and she could feel more than hear Garrus' jaw drop.

"Ashley..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I dropped down from the building, rolling with the impact and bounding back to my feet, setting off for the center of the colony at a decently-paced jog. I was never much for sprinting or running, but distance marching with full gear, I can do.

Hundred pounds of kit, in 110 degree weather with the sun beating down on us, I was the one out front, not slowed down in the least. The others said I was like a wolf; not the fastest, but suited to moving extreme distances without slowing regardless of circumstances.

Eh.

I slapped my sniper rifle onto my back, pulling my Avenger in case there were any remaining Collectors on the way.

Doubt it. But, hey.

The buildings were interesting... Hastily erected, but solid. They stack one on top of the other, allowing for lerger living space in smaller areas... Very nice. Looks like the things can be built rather quickly, as well.

Huh. Colonization must be pretty popular, nowadays...

Anyway. I moved quickly, taking shortcuts through and over buildings, utilizing my jetpack to pull off some wicked tricks, diving through a window, using the jets to keep it going and send me through the ten-foot room and our the other window, all in under a second and a half.

Freaking awesome, man.

I gotta remember to use it for parkour and rapid traversal of uneven terrain.

In other words, to move across difficult areas but-quick.

Used to do freerunning and parkour before I joined the military... Lotta fun, learning creative ways to move through the world.

As my teacher explained it to me, it's more of about mindset than physical abilities. To be able to see the world differently... To see EVERYTHING as a means to move, every little thing as a challenge... That's a freerunner. Someone who is determined to go wherever he pleases, without the constraints of society; to run free, and take whatever path is there before you.

_'There are no obstacles... Only shortcuts.' _

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard glanced towards the west wall, seeing Blade suddenly flip over it, rolling to a crouch as he hit the grass.

As he stood and dusted himself off, he called, "Hope I'm not late. Everyone alright?"

She confirmed this with a nod, through Garrus remarked, "Just the usual bumps and bruises. That was some fine marksmanship, earlier... I didn't know you were a sniper."

Blade shrugged. "Neither did my Lieutenant, but that didn't stop him from handing me a rifle and telling me to take up overwatch from a mile out. So, anyone wanna tell me what the hell those creepy blue bastards are? Not to mention the hulking monster that flew in at the end?"

Shepard couldn't suppress a smirk, despite how she felt. His crass but upbeat mood was contagious. "The creepy bastards, as you call them, are husks. Humans turned into cybernetic drones; they're made by impaling people on spikes created by the Reapers. The machine... I haven't a clue."

He seemed to blink, tilting his head. "Okay, ya lost me. Reapers...?"

Sighing, both she and Garrus filled him on the greatest threat to the galaxy...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I blinked again. "So, sentient machiens that wipe out all technologically advanced lifeforms every fifty thousand years. Huh. Well, at least it proves the religious nuts back on earth wrong."

After a moment, I asked, "And, ah, why are they called Reapers, anyway? Aside from killing everything, I mean."

Shepard shrugged. "That's what the Protheans called them; they supposedly 'harvest' all life every fifty thousand years. According to the one Reaper I did hear from, the mass relays are their technology, not the Protheans'. Basically, they're saying that we're their crops, or something."

. . .

"Huh. Back in my day, I was nicknamed the Red Death... If they're anywhere close to being that good, then we're screwed." I snarked, eliciting a collective chuckle from the others. "Game over, man, game over."

...Not that any of them got that reference.

"_Hah! Nice one, Blade._" ...Except Joker. Of course.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**There's a damned obvious Aliens shout-out right there. And if anyone, and I mean ANYONE, can figure out where the "acceptable payment" joke is from, you win a prize.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Gun control: The theory that a woman found dead in an alley, raped and strangled with her pantyhose, is somehow morally superior to a woman explaining to police how her attacker got that fatal bullet wound." — L. Neil Smith

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Rangers lead the way; Right behind the Marines! OORAH!"**_** -Unofficial saying of the USMC Force Recon. Damned if it ain't true, my brothers. Oorah.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the privilege of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed... _**Except for when the government deems it necessary**_." **\Sarcasm.**


	11. Chapter 11 Socialism?

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Mayhaps... Pandora would be an interesting vacation. Heheh. Hm. Here's an oddball thought; there is a widely accepted rumor that biotics use their powers for some... Variation, or should I say, excitement, in bed. Think the Sirens of Borderlands are any different?**_

_**...And now, every die-hard Borderlands fan will be unable to see Lilith or Maya without imagining all the kinky shit they can get up to. You're welcome.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#11 _**Backloop **_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

We milled around for several minutes, chatting, checking injuries, setting up a perimitter, making sure that there were no stragglers.

The entire time... Shepard hadn't said a word, keeping to herself, looking knee-deep in thought the entire time... Strange...

We were doing all of this for another ten minutes, before our ride was in sight.

The shuttle touched down, and the seven of us filed on, myself waiting until the rest before stepping in. There was something nibbling at the back of my head, telling me that something was off...

Something was bothering Shepard, I could tell. Mayhaps... That the Collectors got away, with all those people... Hundreds, at least.

_That seems likely._

...Still hate having the running commentary, peanut gallery.

_Commentating is my primary function, Operator._

Uh-huh...

I hit the door switch, moving over to sit next to Shepard, who had chosen a seat away from the others.

She didn't react in the least... Just sitting there, leaning forward, head down, arms resting on her knees.

"Shepard. What's wrong?" I quietly asked, my eyes scanning the interior of the small ship...

The others were sitting around, fiddling with weapons, checking armor, applying medi-gel to various small injuries. Jack had a large patch of medi-gel over a wound to her left flank, not even reacting as Jacob carefully applied more of the salve to the edges, making sure the wound didn't reopen.

Garrus notched another few kill marks into the stock of his rifle, while Zaeed did the same. Grunt was munching on a snack of some sort, looking rather bored. Huh.

"I'm fine, Blade. Just a headache." Shepard responded as she sat up, her voice and tone entirely even.

I turned my gaze back to her, quirking an eyebrow. "Did I ever mention that I'm a human lie detector, Shepard?"

Her eyes finally settled on me as she adopted a sardonic expression. "No, you conveniently ommitted that bit of information."

"It's more effective when people don't know. Shepard, you cannot blame yourself for what happened to those people; you did what others could not, and saved many lives today. If nothing else, the Collectors will hesitate before trying to prey on a human colony again. Look not to how many have fallen; but those who have lived." Shepard calmly listened, smiling sadly after I'd finished.

"I know... I just can't help thinking through my actions, finding things I could've done differently, and wondering how things might have turned out... But thanks." Her tone... Something about it...

Hm. "...That's not all that's bothering you, is it?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "I don't know how you do that... But yeah, you're right."

I nodded sagely. "Tell brother Blade what weighs on your mind..."

Suddenly, she gave me an oddball look. "Brother Blade? Heh, is that supposed to be a knock against Catholics?"

I shrugged, grinning. "Blade 3:16, thou shalt not fuck with me, on punishment of an ass-whooping. So, will you avoid my question a third time?"

Shepard settled back into her seat, replying with a humorless chuckle, "No. Back there, we ran into an old friend... Ashley Williams. She was apart of my crew two years ago, and thought I died when the original Normandy was destroyed. She... Doesn't approve of Cerberus, nor my working with them."

"Rarely can anyone please all parties when one has to make decisions; you're bound to step on someone's toes eventually. As far as you are concerned, you can do what is easy, or you can do what is right. That is a hard choice to make, Shepard; I don't envy you that responsibility."

As my words sunk in, she gave me another odd stare. "You speak from experience... There's more wisdom in that statement than you know."

I shrugged again, offering a sad smile. "I've had time to learn from my mistakes... Shepard. You are strong, but as you yourself said, we are all human beneath the steel. Whatever burdens you carry, you will always have someone following just behind, ready to take up the slack. You needn't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone."

A slight impact went through the shuttle, marking our landing within the Normandy.

I patted her shoulder, standing. "Remember that, Shepard. I'm here for you... We all are. You need only give the word."

As the hatch opened and I stepped out, I heard a ghost of a whisper...

"Thank you, Blade..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Even as Shepard stepped off the elevator, walked into her cabin, stripping down and turning on the shower, there was one thing that ate at her...

"How..." He... He knew... Not even knowing her for a full two weeks, and yet he could see right through her...

'_He understands me better than most... How does he do it...?_'

Stepping under the spray, she welcomed the near-scalding water, scrubbing off the sweat and grime she'd accumulated. "How did he know..."

The only ones who could do that... Were members of her old crew. The ones who'd been through hell and back for her... Garrus, Anderson, Tali, Joker, Wrex...

Ashley... And Kaiden.

Those memories still pained her dearly, remembering the final moments of one of Shepard's good friends and comrades. Seeing Ashley again only reminded her of that, and of her failure to the colonists of Horizon.

Hands clenched tight, Shepard felt no pain, not even as blood began to seep between her fingers...

That man... He seemed... Different from anyone Shepard had ever met. Brutal, blunt, and honourable, he seemed like the typical special forces soldier. A consummate professional, whose sense of humor has adapted to the gruesome work he does each day.

But there was something... Something under it all. Something that he hid from everyone, possibly even from himself. Parhaps even his own personality, the humorous, carefree front he shows, is nothing more than a mask.

That would seem to fit... Even as he laughs and jokes, there is an underlying melancholy, as though he is simply going through the motions. Though he offers sound advice and insight, he had to've acquired it from somewhere... Whatever pain he carries in his heart, he refuses to let it show, instead caring for others.

Idealistic... Yet realistic. Selfless, courageous... Heroic, even...

Her eyes shot wide, as dawning comprehension settled in... Now she knew why he was so familiar.

For some reason... He reminded Shepard of herself.

In his eyes, she saw her own shadow...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I paced back and forth, feeling restless. Earlier I wanted only to rest, but now... I don't know. My body is worked up, itching to keep moving.

And I can't figure out why... It's annoying.

_'Ah... What to do...'_

Decisions, decisions...

I almost didn't notice Jack's clanging footsteps behind me, as she descended the stairs.

"Huh? The hell're you pacing for?"

She looked healthy as ever, a new scar on her lower left flank. Maybe two inches across, with a thin layer of medi-gel over it.

"Restless... Feels like I just downed a pot of coffee. Not sure why."

She answered that with a shrug, plopping down on the rack and languidly stretching out. "You can work that out yourself, already got one part'a me opened up more than I like."

Huh.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard stretched her arms high above her head, yawning loudly as she stepped off the elevator. As she turned and started for the door into engineering, movement in the corner of her eye caught the Commander's attention.

Looking down into the Cargo hold, she saw Blade going through some kind of CQC routine, throwing punches and kicks so fast, his limbs became little more than a dark blur.

There was something strange about the way he moved... It was oddly enticing, elegant... Each strike flowed into the next with nary a wasted movement, each and every blow looking to have enough force behind it to shatter titanium.

The strangest part of it all, was that he didn't slow or stop, as Shepard stood and watched, entranced... Minutes ticked by, though she wasn't sure of how many...

Turning back, she entered the elevator, taking it down to deck five and stepped out, wanting to get a closer look for reasons she couldn't explain.

He took no notice of her as she moved closer, seeing that he wasn't just fighting like a brawler; every part of his armoured body was his weapon, from head to toe. Now that Shepard had a better look, she noticed that he preferred to use his elbows, knees and shoulders, utilizing speed and momentum as much as physical strength to deal devastating blows to areas ranging from head- and neck-height, to as low as the side of where an opponent's knee would be.

Shepard lost track of time, watching intently as she leaned against one of the nearby crates...

Some time later, he finally slowed to a stop, panting, shoulders rising and falling with each breath. Then he reached for his left shoulder, drawing one of his knives, and changing into a stance, flipping it underhand...

And he started all over again, fighting like a demon, treating the weapon as though he'd been born with it, seeming to be going through the exact same routine, with additional strikes based around the knife itself. From simple slashes and thrusts, to attacks that looked like they would _eviscerate_ a human, or even lift them off their feet, tossing them into their comrades.

However...

Shepard now understood why he wanted to go alone back on Zorya.

The way he fights... It isn't just dangerous; it's wild, primal, even. It looked like nothing she had ever encountered before, even amongst the fighting styles of other races. No... He created it himself, based around a simple mentality;

Everyone is your enemy.

Almost every other attack, he seemed to swing wide, or behind himself, either to hit someone coming up behind him, or to make sure he wasn't surrounded. He seemed to have created a way to fight when outnumbered and surrounded, and he never moved backwards; instead, he would push forward, either by going through someone, or around them. Shepard reasoned that this was so he would never back into an enemy or a corner, so he would always have options available to him.

And judging from the way he switches his grip or changes hands with his weapon... He's ambidexterous, using that to startle an enemy. He prefers to lead with his off-hand side, to counter or grapple before landing a lethal blow.

The entire style looked reckless, but upon closer inspection, some of the different techniques seem based around countering an enemy strike, knocking it aside as he landed one of his own, while others look to be more of a 'take three to give one' mindset...

It wasn't meant to be used with allies in the vicinity. Strange... If Shepard had to describe it, she would say it was emotions in motion, to be poetic. Elegant and refined, yet brutal and primal all at the same time...

More time passed... Shepard finally blinked, and checked her omni, eyes flashing wide as she realized she'd been standing there watching him for more than an hour and a half.

"I was wondering when you were going to stop ogling me." His voice startled her back to reality as he approached, sheathing his knife. "Something on your mind, Shepard? Or were you just here for the show?"

It was hard to tell if he was actively flirting, or if that was just how he acted. Shepard was leaning towards the former, seeing how he is around others.

Shepard smirked, calling, "I came down to watch, but I'd like to hear where you learned to fight like that." ...Strangely enough, flirting back came naturally with him, and unlike most, he isn't easily flustered. He's very different from Jacob... He's more rough, and the scars he carries are much harder to see.

"I taught myself, for the most part. I've learned different techniques and principles along the way, adding things and changing others as I went along. The base form has remained the same, though; kill the enemy before they kill you." Though he didn't look or sound tired, he sat down atop one of the stacks of crates, slightly leaning against one of the higher ones.

Shepard frowned. "But someone had to've shown you the basics. Who was it?"

He was... Quiet, for a moment. "...No one of consequence, Commander. It's a long story, regardless."

"...Would you mind removing your helmet? It gets annoying talking to a reflection."

He did so without hesitation, laying the heavy object on his lap, one hand resting on its surface, fingers drumming to a wordless melody. His eyes were the same as ever... Warm and bright turquoise, with just a hint of the cold, dark, hard flint underneath.

"...Is something wrong, Shepard?" He asked, head tilted questioningly.

Nodding, "Yes. You still haven't told me the full story."

He shifted uncomfortably. "That's... A personal matter, Commander."

Hm... He still doesn't trust Shepard with that information... Either it's something that he is ashamed of... Or something that deeply pains him.

Shepard changed the subject before things got too awkward.

"Say... Is it just me, or do you intentionally overshadow everyone else on the squad?"

He blinked, and shrugged. "Nah, not on purpose. It'd be closer to say that our enemies are incompetent... Or just not used to fighting a highly aggressive opponent. I was trained to be a killing machine way back when, so the high-tech equipment we've got now just exponentiates that. Now that I have gear that can keep up with my reaction time... Idiots like the Blue suns are just cannon fodder."

He leaned back, looking thoughtful as he rapped his fingers against the shell of his helmet.

"Believe it or not... This suit is what makes me that dangerous. Without it, I wouldn't be able to fight so recklessly, not without the risk of debilitating injuries. It would mean that I would have to hang back, and rely more on cover to keep from getting turned into swiss cheese. It's got incredible shielding and armor, as well as its regenerative abilities... It's amazing. However... For some reason, it seems as though it utilizes technology well ahead of what is readily available. The nanotech and cybernetics, not to mention the... Valhalla system, or whatever it's called. It's great, but... All that together... There's gotta be a drawback, somewhere along the line. Someway that they cut costs, or did something to speed up the process... Cerberus doesn't strike me as the type to place safety above all else, so it's just a matter of time before the other shoe drops. And I get the feeling that when it does, it's going to get someone killed."

Shepard zeroed in on that right there; "...Is that why you prefer to go off on your own so much, risking yourself instead of the others?"

He blinked again, turning and giving her a look. "You catch on quick, Shepard. You're a lot more perceptive than I gave you credit for."

...She drily responded, "Thanks... I think. Well, if you don't care to tell me about yourself, would you kindly inform me of how you manage to read my mind every other day?"

He shrugged once more.(He does that a lot. He has a lot of motorized emotional responses...) "I honestly don't know, Shepard. You aren't easy to read, but I recognize your tells and emotions. It's... Odd, truth be told."

Shepard remembered what The illusive Man said... That the Spartans were meant to assist her... "Cerberues experimented on you while you were in cryo, didn't they?"

He simply nodded. "Aye, and left a few of the records of what they did. What of it?"

She had to be careful about how she worded this... "Did you read about any attempts at mental conditioning?"

...Aha! There... Just a slight narrowing of his eyes. "...There were no details of the results, Shepard. And my memories are still... Questionable. I do not know what they did, nor if it succeeded."

So they did... And probably programmed her own idiosyncracies into his head... But why? Did the Illusive Man want him to accompany her? If so, then why? Why not send her to recruit him, instead of the roundabout?

...Or is he truly loyal only to Cerberus, and wants her to trust him... So many possibilities...

"...Shepard? Is something the matter?" She blinked, refocusing on him.

Blade had a concerned look in his features. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing," She replied on reflex, not wanting to share her suspicions with the man she is suspicious of, for obvious reasons.

He blinked. "You know, Shepard, you're really bad at lying."

Damnit.

He counted off each and every tell he noticed, the cocky bosh'tet. "You lick your lips, glance towards the floor and the door, rap your fingers against your leg, flex the muscle in your left arm, and the tendons in your neck tighten. Should I go on?"

Shepard drily commented, "No, thank you... But I want a straight answer."

**[Cue Music; Live Again, by Course of Nature; Album, Damaged. **_**A fitting song, if I say so myself. Which I do, mweeheehee**_**]**

He nodded, looking her in the eyes. "Of course, Shepard. What is it?"

"Who is it you are loyal to?"

Such a simple question...

"You, Shepard." He replied instantly, without hesitation, flinching, movement, nor unecessary stillness. He never looked away from her gaze, even... He wasn't lying, judging from that and the lack of his usual habit whenever he was witholding something.

"Why?"

He blinked again, startled. "I've no reason to trust anyone else; you cannot lie to me, and you've yet to give me any reason to doubt you. Cerberus did not release me from cryo, and they alterred my body without my consent. They selfishly assumed that I would do as they asked... Hmph. The only reason I am here is for you, Shepard. I've no love for Cerberus nor any other faction that does not share my own ideals. Why is it you ask?"

Hmm... Should she share her concerns... He apparently cannot lie to her... In appearance, at the very least. Or is that just his way of trying to win her over... Agh, subterfuge isn't Shepard's strong suit.

"...Would you be suspicious, if someone had their head screwed with, and they automatically knew each and every one of your idiosyncracies? Especially when the one who did the screwing is one of the galaxy's most infamous manipulators?"

He blinked, head tilted, eyes starting to glaze as his mind went to work. "...You're right, Shepard. I'd be suspicous of them as well." Sitting back against the crate, he let out a sigh, before dejectedly saying,

"One of the underlying things I've been subconsciencely asking myself this entire trip, is _am I still me_? After being in cryo for over a century, after being a guinea pig for those mad scientist bastards, after having my memories fucking _erased_, am I still myself? We are made by our experiences, Shepard; they make us who we ARE. Without them... Without the memories of the people I loved... What have I become? Would I recognize myself, if I had them? Because I don't know the answer to that, Shepard... I don't know if I've changed, or if what memories I do have are even mine. Because of that, Shepard, I trust no one... Not even my own will." Such self-hatred in his voice... If he's an actor, he's a damn good one.

It was... Strange. Shepard felt herself being compelled by his voice, her heartstrings tugged by so little... Was this her own damaged heart, being called to his? Or something... Sinister...?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Blade..." I looked back to her, into those kind, emerald eyes. "Tell me... I want you to tell me what you remember. What pain made you into the man you are today?"

"...Is that an order, Commander?" She nodded.

I leaned back with a sigh, looking towards the ceiling, those memories returning, unbidden... The same nightmare that made me into the dead-head killer I've become.

"...And I used to be bulletproof..." I found myself muttering, recalling the same line I heard from Rachel, as I reached for the pack of cigarettes I'd snagged.

Pulling one and placing the cancer stick to my lips, my omni lit up and a small flame appeared on the end. Touching it to the end, I took a long pull, the nicotine kicking in within seconds.

While my hand was up high, I instinctively touched it to where _it_ would be... Once more finding that the object in question was gone, lost forever. Fucking lovely...

I dropped the pack in my lap, looking back to her. "You heard from Jack yet, about what Cerberus did to her?"

Shepard nodded, leaning back against the crate again.

"...She isn't the only one."

**[Music change; Survive, by Rise Against; Album, The Sufferer and the Witness]**

She raised an eyebrow, confused. "Meaning...?"

I turned away, leaning my head back. "One hundred and seventy-two years ago... My mother volunteered me for the DOG program. In the womb, I was genetically modified to become a perfect soldier, physically and mentally. When I was six years old... That was the first time Uncle took me. From ages six to nine, I was trained, hypnotized, and conditioned... As both a child soldier and assassin. We were conditioned to fight and kill, and not remember any of it. If someone played a certain frequency of sound, we would be hypnotized by it, and would follow any order given; thus, the name Dog. We were the perfect soldiers..." Trailing off, I took another drag, before continuing.

"I learned to fight in the circle, against the other children... Two hundred of us in the beginning, male and female, all training together in squads. But by the end... There was a total of ninety-one. At age nine... That was when I broke through the mental conditioning. I remembered what I'd done. I remembered nearly everything. I... Remembered killing the others on Brickchin's orders."

Shepard's eyes widened, swallowing. "That's..."

I shook my head. "Only the beginning... That was when I became a Wolf. The Dogs were footsoldiers, disposable sleeper agents. Wolves... Those are the ones who remember. We were the strongest, physically and mentally. Our training was far more harsh, made to create the supersoldiers of the time. Our genetic modification was far more... Intense. Our adrenal glands were overstimulated, and the 'limiters' on our muscles' output inhibited. Effectively, we had reaction times that were beyond human. After all that, we were forced to kill one another."

She paled, but I didn't allow her to comment yet.

"That encouraged us to fight harder, and numbed us to the taking of lives. Four years of that... Fighting, training, killing... But that wasn't the worst part. At the end of our training, at thirtteen, the Wolves were... They bred us." I threw my helmet to the side, running a hand over my buzzcut, inhaling more of the tobacco.(At least, I think it was... Tastes like baccy, anyway)

Shepard was now visibly shocked, her jaw dropping. "They- They what? _Bred_ you?"

Nodding numbly, "Yes... Each Wolf was drugged. Then they placed a male and female in a locked room with a bed, and sub-fifty degree tempuratures. The result was unavoidable. After that... We were drugged once more, hypnotized, and returned to our 'families' with more false memories. After a short time, each Wolf would remember, but by then... The false family was long gone, with no way to find them. Grandmother disappeared, and I never saw Uncle after he dropped me off that last time... It's no comfort knowing they died peacefully." Even as my hollow voice rang out, I looked to Shepard, somehow expecting her to hate me for my actions... Killing the others just to _survive_... When it was meaningless. Killing my friends for that... It wasn't worth it.

But Shepard just... Stood there, looking pained. "You've... Lived with that, your whole life?"

I nodded, flicking away the depleted cigarette, fetching another...

When I heard footsteps. I'd barely turned my head, when her hand caught my wrist. "Stop. Those things will kill you."

"Hn. Not fast enough." I grunted, replacing the stick in the package.

But... Her eyes held no hatred, no repulsion... Why? "That's what you carry every day... How do you do it? How have you gone on with that on your heart?"

"...Because that is all I know."

**[Music Change: Caught Dead, by Papa Roach; Album, Getting Away with Murder]**

I pulled myself up, looking back down to her. "If I give in, then their deaths will be meaningless. I cannot and will not let the guilt overcome my heart... No matter how much of myself I must kill to keep going. Moving ever onward to tomorrow... That is the promise I made. When Death comes for me, he'll have a fight on his hands."

She smiled... It matched the kindness in her eyes, warming my thawing heart. "If you can still feel from that, then you are still yourself. Who you were isn't important, Blade; it's who you are that matters. And I don't hate you... You did not do that of your own will, nor were you the one who instigated it. No matter how much it hurts... Never give in to it. I'm here for you, too."

**[Music change: Roses on My Grave, by Papa Roach; Album, The Paramour Sessions]**

With that, I... I lost it. Before I even knew what I was doing, I had a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer as I placed a tender kiss upon her lips.

"Thank you... Shepard."

She was stunned for a moment, blushing brightly before returning the gesture with a smile.

"Thank you for telling me. Now c'mon... Before the others start spreading rumors."

...And as she walked away, beckoning me, I realized that she, too, understood... Like Rachel, she knew... And understood. She didn't hate me... I couldn't fathom why they weren't repulsed by a cold-blooded murderer...

All of a sudden... Those feelings I held for her made sense... She was so much like Rachel, from mannerisms to appearance... She's... Just like the only woman I ever felt that way about...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Back on the elevator, Shepard asked him something else that was wriggling at her, still trying to fight down the blush that had crept up on her. "So it was... Brickchin, that taught you how to fight?"

He nodded. "Him and Uncle both. Uncle, as I called him, was far more oriented on armed CQC, utilizing knives and my enviornment, whereas- Well... Brickchin was the nickname we gave the militaristic man who taught us as a group, he preferred pure hand-to-hand. His chin was almost entirely flat and block-like, so the name stuck. Uncle was... My sponsor. He reccommended me as a Wolf."

Hmm...

The other thing that bothered her... The breeding... Something about that disturbed her even more than the sheer immorality of it. "...Who was the girl?"

He instantly knew what Shepard meant. "I did not know her name... Each of us was given and referred to as a number. Mine was 82, hers was 21. Males had even, females had odd. Much of what happened is... Fuzzy. I could never remember what her face looked like... That will haunt me until the day I die, I suppose." Looking down, she sword there was a tear in the corner of his eye.

Ah... "Sorry."

Shaking his head, he replied, "No... It's fine. It's done me good to get it off my chest, it's just... Fresh." He turned, giving her a genuine, warm smile. "Thank you, Shepard. Whatever you need, I'm around."

Geeze, this elevator is taking awhile...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Elsewhere on the ship...**

EDI and Joker gazed at them through the camera, the bearded man looking at the hologram in question.

"Heh, you slowed the elevator on purpose... Fifty credits says he kisses her again." He stated, the computer waking a moment to respond.

"...I will take that bet, mister Moreau. I believe she will take the initiative this time."

"Ha! You're on!"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Back on the elevator...**

Just as the doors opened, Blade took a step, walking out.

"Hey, Blade," She started, idly wondering if she should invite him up... That kiss was the only close contact she'd had in many months, not including those two years, and she was itching for something more...

He turned, helmet slung over his shoulder, looking back to Shepard. "Yes?"

Ah... Should she... Yes, no... Damnit... Quick, before he walks off!

"Shepard? Is something wrong?" Head tilted, he looked even cuter with that concerned expression.

...But he might get the wrong signals, if she went from talking and a quick kiss, straight into bed.

Ah, fuck it.

She took a step, seizing him by the collar of his armor, pulling him down and planting her lips on his in a far more aggressive liplock.

Not a quarter-second later, she heard his helmet drop as he shifted, placing his arms around her, moving closer to deepen the kiss, which lasted for several seconds...

Before she pulled back, the edges of her vision darkening... He could hold his breath for a lot longer than she'd thought.

He chuckled, low and throaty. "Is this apart of your therapy, Shepard?"

She threw back, "That depends. Will I need to cuff you to get you to go along with it?"

"No... But if you want to, I don't mind."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Back with Joker and EDI... Again.**

Joker's jaw was still hanging. "H-how... HOW?!"

"...It seems you owe me fifty credits, mister Moreau."

He groaned. "Damnit... Fine, take it out of my account..."

"I already have. And mister Moreau." He turned, looking at the hologram. "I told you so."

The AI sounded... Smug.

"...Damnit."

Back on-screen, they see something odd... Just inside the port-side door to engineering, they spy Jack... She was leaning out and glaring at the pair, looking a bit more pissed off than her usual omnicidal self.

Noticing this, Joker sighs, and shakes his head. "Thaaat's not good."

...Both he and EDI had spied on her and Blade in the hold. EDI won that bet, too.

You'd think he would learn better than to bet against the house- er, ship.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**In response to my latest Guest review on chapter 1, #23; Yes, he seems overpowered, due to the armor that is on-parr with much more advanced designs due to an experimental power core. In ME2, handheld small arms technology is more advanced than personal armor and shielding, meaning that even the best available armor and shielding will only offer a few shots' worth of protection over standard-issue equipment.**_

_**In ME3, those defensive technologies get some massive upgrades, going from values in the hundreds to the thousands in some cases, while weaponry doesn't get much better than it was before. This fic shows that as well as the reactions to it; I started the series on ME2, and was just shocked at how much the combat changed from it to ME3.**_

_**Besides, no supersoldier is worth his salt if he ISN'T a one-man, galactic fighting force. The Spartans were meant to turn the tides of any land-based conflict; they're the most advanced warfighters of their time...**_

_**But they aren't getting better. Their functionality is at its peak. **_

_**So if they cannot go up... Where must they go?**_

_**Ha ha ha ha ha... **_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**NOW, yes, things are starting to become a bit more socially-involved. Hey, you put fifty-some-odd people on a vessel for months on end, and shit's gonna happen. Then shit's gonna get stirred. Then shit's gonna asplode when something goes wrong. **_

_**No, this is not Mary-Sue-ish. Things change fast, my friends...**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Can you find the Berserk reference in this one? It's extremely subtle... Verrry stealthy. **_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Quote of the Day! **_**"What part of SHALL NOT BE INFRINGED, does the Supreme Court not understand? It's pretty goddamn self-explanatory!" -Mine, actually.**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Rangers lead the way; Right behind the Marines! OORAH!"**_** -Unofficial saying of the USMC Force Recon. Damned if it ain't true, my brothers. Oorah.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the privilege of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed... _**Except for when the government deems it necessary**_." **\Sarcasm.**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Hell, I like myself when I'm drunk. It's other people who have a problem!" -Tommy Lee Jones, _Man of the House._**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"All right, sweethearts, what are you waiting for? Breakfast in bed? Another glorious day in the Corps! A day in the Marine Corps is like a day on the farm. Every meal's a banquet! Every paycheck a fortune! Every formation a parade! I LOVE the Corps!" **_**-Sergeant Apone, from Aliens**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Lemon? Possibly. Likely? Hell, no... Our hero isn't so fortunate... Ha ha ha ha ha...**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#12 _**Revelations **_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I made my way down to the hold, pulling my helmet into place to hide the dumbass grin on my face. Even as my boots clanged against the stairs, something suddenly felt off...

"I sense murder..."

Quick as a blink, I dropped down into the hold, knife in one hand, gun in the other. I moved, sweeping my sightline from top to bottom, until my gaze landed upon-

I knocked a metal object out of the air before it struck me, snapping my sights onto the form of-

Jack, sitting at the bench with her feet kicked up, a datapad in her hand. The object in question was another datapad, which now had a gouge in it, not to mention some scrapes.

"The hell was that for?" I called, holstering my weapon.

She just threw up a middle finger. "Fuckin' felt like it."

...Oookay. Wonder what her problem is...

Women.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Above them, in Shepard's cabin...**

Shepard was lounging on her couch, reading the new dossiers the Illusive Man had sent over.

_Samara; Asari Justicar with biotic prowess on-par with those of a Matriarch, as well as advanced training in the handling of all manner of firearms. _

...Or trying to, at least.

_'...With such toned muscles, those gem-like eyes, always looking through me...' _Another shudder ran unbidden down her spine, a wave of warmth rising rising through her body, emanating from her groin. '_He is strong, caring, and the way he tastes is just-_'

She stopped, shaking away those thoughts, as well as her temptations to request security video of the male restroom... From when Blade had been showering-

"Damnit..." Tossing down the datapad, she pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. She, the great Commander Shepard, can't even think straight because of something so simple... It was just a kiss...

'_The best kiss you've ever had..._'

Why can't she get him out of her head...

'_Because your head's in the gutter._' She snarked to herself, somehow managing to irritate herself.

With a sigh, she stood, figuring a nice, cold shower would do her good right about now... Least then she could focus on figuring out which of the four she would go to recruit first.

Standing, Shepard began undoing her clothes and removing them, moving for her personal bathroom, unsuccessfully trying to shake away her thoughts of the soldier down below.

_'Down below...'_

Bad! Bad libido!

'_Why am I so bothered by this... I hardly know him... He's rough, damaged, crass, dangerous, and possibly a spy, even... And yet... One of the most attractive men I've laid eyes on..._'

Even as she stepped under the freezing water, it did nothing to quell the burning desires...

'_No good. Damnit... Why do I feel this way about a complete stranger...?_' The Commander sardonically thought, starting to get annoyed with herself. Fight wars, sure. Win them, easy. Defeat the Geth, roger that. Save the galaxy, no problem, all in a day's work.

Deal with her rampaging, half-starved sex drive? You're on your own with that one, Ace.(For now, at least...)

Irritatedly relenting to her raging uterus, she grabbed the handle of the removable shower head, reluctantly switching the flow back to hot water.

'_Wonder how many settings this thing has..._'

...Well, she found out, alright.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Back with Blade.**

I suddenly sat bolt upright, feeling like someone just dragged an ice cube across the back of my sack.

"Pervert senses... Tingling..."

Jack blinked, turned and stared at him. "...The fuck?"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**The next day...(Or shift, whatever you call it when on a spaceship)**

Suppressing a yawn, I trudged up the stairs and into the elevator, none too enthused about being woken up for sightseeing...

Hey, wanna see the Citadel? Get off your ass and up here, c'mon, it'll be fun!

...Right. No thank you.

So, up I went, hoping that no one can the the half-asleep expression under my helmet. When I stepped out of the elevator, I found Shepard wearing full kit, looking-

...Like a lobster.

Really, she did. Her face was red, as if- as if she had sunburn.

"You alright, Shepard?" I asked, moving closer, instinctively worried for her health.

She turned, a response on her lips that died before it even left. She choked, snickered and placed a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.

...?

"Uh, something wrong?"

She stuttered, "N-nothing! No sir, nothing wrong at all." ...But she was grinning, therefore I did not trust her. Kelly Chambers, the shrink, had also turned away, trying not to laugh.

The hell?

Well, whatever. "You sure you should be going out, Shepard? You look like a lobster... A badly overcooked lobster." I wasn't making fun of her, I'll have you know. There was only concern in my voice... I swear, there was!

Shepard snickered again, still grinning. "And you look like you lost a fight with a marker. What of it?"

...A marker? Huh. Didn't know they still had those.

With a shrug, I retaliated, "Well, at least I fought back. You sure you want to go out in public like that? Someone might mistake you for an Asari with a deadly disease..."

. . .

"Pff, Hahahahahahahaaa!" We heard Joker bust out laughing from all the way by the elevator. He must have good hearing...

Shepard shook her head with a smirk, turning to move around the CIC, as I followed close behind. "C'mon, you and Garrus are coming along. We're here to pick up someone named Kasumi Goto, and to see an old friend."

Kasumi Goto... Human name, japanese... Hm.

Wait. "And here is the Citadel, I take it? So... What is the Citadel, exactly?"

As we moved closer to the cockpit, Shepard's only reply was, "You'll see."

Huh.

"Did I ever mention that I don't like surprises, Shepard?"

She turned and beamed at me. "Too~ La~aaate." She replied, in a singsong-like voice.

...I hate morning people.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Whoa...

I did, indeed, see. The Citadel was... Massive. Huge. Gargantuan... A space station bigger than a continent...

Next to Joker, was Garrus, looking on as our pilot negotiated with landing control.

"Yeah, we're back... C'mon, you know it's me! Who else can pull off an approach like that?... Uh, yes ma'am!"

...I take it she's got him by the balls, metaphorically speaking.

Joker turned to Shepard. "We're good, docking in three. And apparently, we've got a lot of 'explaining' to do for the council." He even used figner-quotes.

Shepard adopted a sardonic expression, crossing her arms. "Uh-huh... And I'm sure they'll just love hearing every minute of it..."

Garrus shrugged. "Nothing for it, Shepard. Of course... We could always just walk out on them, for old times' sake. Shame they won't do it over the QEU... Then we could just hang up on them."

The three of them shared a chuckle, an old joke, I take it. "Huh."

Shepard looked at me. "Hm? What is it?"

"Nothing, I just feel like the FNG. I take it you all have a past with this council?"

Nods all around. "Yep... Not exactly on friendly terms. Unless they've done a major about-face, then they're going to be about as helpful as a second asshole."

Hm. "Oh, goodie... More bureaucrats. Praise the lord and pass the ammunition..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Docking complete. Airlock opening..." EDI droned on, as the hatch opened, and the three of us walked through the short gangway, through another automatic hatch and onto a large walkway... It was a drydock for ships, protected from the vaccuum of space by a massive blue field.

I followed just behind Shepard, through another hatch into a decontamination area. We were sprayed down and airhosed dry within seconds, before we were allowed through into customs.

Shepard was wearing her helmet now, oddly enough. Must be for the lobster-face, heheh.

Anyway. Customs was filled with several people of various races, including two that looked like large, pink jellyfish, with tentacle-like limbs. For soem reason... When I saw them, the Hanar, my first thought was,

'_Lovely... Tentacle-rape aliens. Now it really is a cliche universe._'

Anyway. We were three armored, well-armed people casuall strolling into customs, making the ONE officer there(Human woman) swallow hard, and look down at her omni-tool. Checking to see when her shift would end, I take it.

"You two wait here a second, I'll catch up in a minute," Shepard ordered, walking over to a cylinder with several flashing images and videos on its surface.

...And she began talking to it.

"...Uh, Garrus, is that normal?"

He turned to look. "Having a conversation with an advertisement? No, but I don't think anyone's going to say anything, seeing as she's carrying weapons."

Huh.

Anyway, we waited some five minutes, before Shepard concluded her conversation and joined us.

"So, what was that about, O fearless leader?"

She smiled brightly. "Oh, nothing. C'mon, let's go."

...Ooookay.

So, through the one hallway, where we were stopped by another officer,(Judging by the blue and black uniform; his was armor, unlike the previous one's. Oh, and this guy was a turian)

A blue field appeared in front of us, moving over us. A scanner, of some sort. It passed twice, before an alarm blared.

"...They've really stepped up security since I was last here..." Shepard commented, sounding like she was sweatdropping.(If this was an anime, which unfortunately, it wasn't)

Garrus was looking at the tech, admiring it. "Yeah... Things have gotten at least a bit better. I hope."

The turian officer ahead of us started cursing under his breath. "Shut it down... What? Do you seriously think- Okay..." He looked back at Shepard.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am. Our scanners are picking up false readings... They seem to think that you're, ah, dead."

Shepard blinked. "I was just 'mostly' dead. Try finding that option on government paperwork..."

"Heh, right. Would you mind checking in with my captain? He can reinstate you in our system. He's through the door, at the desk on your right." The door behind him opened, and the three of us went through, stopping in front of a desk laden with papers, a computer, several coffee cups, a half-eaten sandwich, with an older gentleman sitting behind it. He was talking to another officer just behind.

"He's not gonna talk just becasue you ask; you're gonna hafta make him scream a little."

A moment later, he turned back to us. "Ah... Commander Shepard. I see the problem; my console says you're dead."

She nodded. "Yeah... I kinda was."

Garrus and I shared a look. "You were?" We both asked, making Bailey look between the three of us.

"...I got better." Shepard half-assedly finished, and I could tell she was smiling. Probably imagining all the ways she was going to inflict pain on us for embarassing her.

"Right... Well, normally, in order to have your ID's reactivated, you'd have to go through the proper channels... Administration, customs, plus a trip to the treasury..." He chuckled. "Spending a year 'dead' is a popular tax dodge."

Shepard raised an eyebrow and gave him the look. Y'know, the _look._

"...But, I can see you're a busy woman, so how about I press this button right here and save us all the headache?"

Shepard nodded, smiling once more. "I'd greatly appreciate it."

"You got it." *Beep* "Well, there you go. I just saved you 'bout nine days of running around, filling out hardcopy paperwork. That said, you might want to drop by the presidium. The council would probably like a chance to chat with the one who saved their scaly asses."

...All three of us sweatdropped.(I'll use this expression pretty often. You know what I mean) "...You're not big on formalities, huh?"

Bailey(The cop) shrugged. "I'm with them right up until they keep people from doing their jobs."

Him, I like. Garrus threw in, "Well, good to see they've finally put someone who gets it in charge of things."

The Captain looked the Turian over. "Well, I'll be... Been awhile, Garrus. I see you're running with Commander Shepard once again."

He gave the Turian equivalent of a grin. "Beats filling out paperwork any day. How's the Executor been treating you? He make retirement look any sweeter?"

"Hah, hell yes. Our current Executor is Chelik; definately not my first choice. Gonna be a good long while for that, though..."

I chuckled. "I hear that, brother. Say Shepard, you paying my pension, or is the Illusive Man footing the bill?"

She shrugged. "Search me."

...Oh, I'm tempted to, believe you me.

"Yes, ma'am. Spread 'em." I snarked, nudging her side. Garrus snickered to himself, saying,

"I'll get the camera."

Shepard rolled her eyes with a coy smile. "Hilarious. Try it, if you're man enough."

I grinned, teasing, "Careful, Shepard, or it'll be a cavity search."

Both the Captain and Garrus choked, stifling yet more snickering.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She teased back, to which I replied,

"Who wouldn't?"

...She had no response to that.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After leaving the chuckling C-sec(Citadel Security, the station's police force) Captain to his own devices, the three of us wandered around from place to place, following Shepard's lead.

We stopped by a gormet food supplier, where Shepard FINALLY got that delivery of high-grade provisions for the ship. Now we won't have to eat fried shit, yay.

After making the arrangements, I nudged her side. "Finally got tired of fried shit, eh?"

She retorted, "No, I just got tired of hearing people complain about the oil Gardener fries it in."

"Hah! Good one. So, where to next?" Shepard stroked her chin,(Or, well, the chin of her helmet) suddenly looking rather displeased. Garrus coughed, also taking on an unpleasant expression.

...I think.(I can't exactly read Turian expressions very well; not yet, anyway)

"...Is something wrong, Shepard?" I asked, trying to read her full expression through the visor of her helmet.(I have good eyesight, and I'm taller than her; that's how I saw her earlier expressions)

Shaking her head, "No," She replied, still looking very irritated. "But our next stop is going to be like shooting myself in the foot."

"Er, is there any way around it, then, or is this one of those compulsory self-inflicted torture situations?"

"Got it in one." She sardonically replied, sighing. "I hate bureaucrats..."

"So does everyone else in the galaxy. Should we get it over with quickly, or leave before they know we're here?" Personally, I'd rather go with the latter, seeing as I handle politicians the same way I handle criminals; don't give them an in, becuase given an inch, they'll take a mile. Use a show of strength, violence and intelligence to get them to comply.

...They all react the same way. Lie, cheat, promise you the world, and leave you with your wallet feeling a fair bit lighter. You should never turn your back on either of them, as they'll both stick a knife between your shoulderblades, one way or another.

Shepard sighed again. "We'll have to, I'm afraid. It'll take at least an hour to get the provisions loaded onto the Normandy."

Garrus looked towards the door. "Or... Alternatively, we could just drop by the Dark Star and throw a few back until they're finished..."

Shepard blinked. And grinned. "Now THAT sounds like a plan."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Of course... It did not go as well as intended.

Up the stairs we went, Garrus remarking along the way, "Don't you miss the conversations we had on those long elevator rides?"

"About as much as I miss getting teeth pulled," Our Commander groaned, reminded of something relatively unpleasant. Still, Garrus laughed.

...An old joke, I'm sure.

"Oh, come now, Shepard. All we're missing is Tali talking about her immune system, or Wrex explaining the history of his people. Good thing we didn't have Mordin along back then..."

"Hah! Good thing, yeah, right! We'd never the end of it..."

Up the final flight we went, moving towards a place with flashing neon lights, browsing the contents of a sporting good store along the way, as well as the table of someone hawking video games for the omni-tool.

Past them we went, about to enter the doors of the bar with the words 'Dark Star Lounge' above them. Some kidn of nightclub, I'm sure.

But, ahem.

"Shepard!" An annoyingly high-pitched female voice called out from our left.

Ah, crap.

Suppressing a groan, Shepard turned, and upon spotting the person inquestion, groaned even harder.

I simply nudged Garrus' side and quietly asked, "Who's the bimbo with the floating camera?"

He shook his head with a scowl. "Khalisa Al-Jilani... Human tabloid reporter, has it out for Shepard. Been trying to ruin her reputation for years, now."

Huh.

Well, Shepard was moving towards the reporter, who practically squealed. Garrus and I followed a few feet behind, taking bets on whether or not Shepard was going to knock her front teeth out.

"I got fifty on the bitch losing her front teeth before we walk."

He looked towards them, then back at me. "I'd have to be an idiot to take that... Eh, fuck it. Sure."

We shook, and got a wee bit closer to listen in...

"...What, so you can do another smear job on me?" -Shepard.

"No, no, no, nothing like that. You may object to my, ah, methods, but we're on the same side. You're back, you're news; I just want to give your story its due." -The reporter then started playing around with a datapad, until her floating camerabot lit up and shined a spotlight on Shepard.

"Sources claim that you were at the heart of the presidium during the Battle of the Citadel. It's fair to say that the course of the battle hinged on your words. If true, you told Admiral Hackett to assist the Destiny Ascension, costing hundreds of human lives and securing the continued dominence of the Citadel council." Aha... Definately trying to do a smear job, the bitch.

Shepard scowled. "The Turians lost twenty cruisers, figure each had a crew of about three hundred. The Ascension, the Asari dreadnought we saved, had a crew of about ten thousand."

She kept up, trying to salvage her thrown dogshit. "But surely the human cost-"

The Commander cut her off. "The Alliance lost eight cruisers; Shen-Yang, Emden, Jacarta, Cairo, Seoul, Capetown, Warsaw, Madrid, and yes, I remember them _all_. Everyone in the Fifth Fleet is a hero; the Alliance owes every one of them medals, and council, owes them a lot more than that. And before you forget, had it been one of the Alliance's ships, you can be damn sure that neither the Turians, Salarians, nor the Asari would sacrifice their own to save one of ours. But we're better than that; we _honor_ our alliances."

Huh. Very nice...

"So you're saying that condone the loss of those lives? That the submissive friendship with the council is worth their-" Shepard's fist was clenched, and I knew she was about an inch away from punching the bitch in the mouth.

So I stepped forward, around her and grabbed the woman by the collar of her dress, and pulled her towards me as I landed a 'softened' haymaker that Mike Tyson would be _DAMN_ proud of.

As Khalisa hit the floor, her camerabot following her the entire way, I said, "The next time you want to do a smear job on someone risking their ass so that idiots like you can live in peace, do us all a favor; take that bullshit tabloid journalism you're so fond of, and cram it up your ass." And as I turned away, I left one last comment. "And play this unedited, or I'll find you."

Turning fully back to Shepard's wide-eyed visage, I deadpanned, "What? You were about to do it anyway."

She blinked. "Then why did you..."

"Because I hit harder." Glancing down, I saw several teeth along with splotches of blood...

Including both of her front teeth.

I looked at Garrus...

"No. No way. You cheated!"

Grinning as the three of us walked away, "I said she'd get her front teeth knocked out. I just never mentioned _who_ would do the knocking."

...The look on his face was priceless.

Shepard chuckled, low and throaty. "You two are awful..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

In the end, Shepard decided to get the self-inflicted torture over with, seeing as that bit would be all over the news by late tomorrow afternoon.

That bitch was going to be out cold till morning, of course. Heheh.

Mike Tyson, bitch!

Or should I have just said, Falcon... PUNCH!

...

The other two had no idea why I suddenly cracked up, giggling to myself.

I didn't bother explaining the joke, as it would take too long. Might mention it to Joker, though.

Anyway, we caught a cab(Skycar) up to the presidium, went through several security checkpoints, before being let out in a rather nice office, for the Human Councilor.

Inside... It was ncie. Very swanky, indeed.

Ahead of us, leaning on the guardrail of an overlook, was an older gentleman with dark skin, wearing some kinda fancy suit. He'd been speaking when we entered, but stopped short, turning to greet us.

"Ah, there you are, Shepard."

She smiled, and it was obvious even with her helmet. "It's been awhile, Anderson. I hope the last few years have treated you right."

The old man smiled. "There've been some rough spots, but it's good to have you back."

Suddenly, a high-pitched, annoying voice came from one of the three holographic consoles on the far side of the room. "We've heard many rumors surrounding your unexpected return. Some of them are... Unsettling." Ah. The Salarian councilor, who wore an elaborate robe with a hood.

Then the one in the middle of an Asari wearing an equally elaborite red dress then spoke. "We called this meeting so you could explain your actions, Shepard. We owe you that much. After all, you saved our lives during the battle against Saren and his Geth."

Shepard frowned, looking irritated already. "Saren was not the one commanding the Geth; it was the Reaper, Sovereign."

Now the Turian on the left threw in his two cents. His plates were oddly dark, compared to the other Turians I've met. "Ah, yes, Reapers... The immortal race of sentient starships supposedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed that claim." He even used finger quotes. Prick.

Anderson said something quietly to Shepard, who then turned back to the alien council. "Just go talk to Vigil, on Ilios. Or better yet, look at the wreckage of Sovereign! The technology's obviously not Geth, and far more advanced than ours!"

The right-side Salarian retorted, "The hologram on Ilios is no longer functional, and we have found nothing to suggest that Sovereign is not a Geth creation."

"Indeed. The Geth are capable of remarkable technological achievements, which is why Saren recruited them." The Asari was the mitigator of the three, then...

The Turian councilor rolled his eyes. "This Reaper theory proves just how fragile your mental state is." My eye twitched, muscles tensing... "You have been manipulated, by Cerberus and before them, by Saren." Oooh, this motherfucker's gonna get a bullet...

I felt a heavy hanf on my shoulder, and found Garrus shaking his head. "No. It's not worth it... Let it go. They'll get theirs eventually."

"Not soon enough, and probably not harsh enough. Too bad they don't have the balls to show up in person..."

He chuckled silently. "I hear that."

Shepard spoke out, sounding like she was doing her best to reign in her anger. "I kept Saren from conquering the Citadel. I sacrificed human lives to save this council! And this is the thanks I get? When I need your help to save human colonists, you tell me I'm insane? I don't give a damn what your opinions on the Reapers are! The Collectors ARE real, and they've already abducted thousands, possibly millions of people!"

The Asari tried to keep things civil. Tried, at least. "Those people knew the risks when they left council space, Shepard. PLease, try to udnerstand our position; you're working with Cerberus, an avowed enemy of the council. This is treason, a capital offense."

Oh, now I'm mad. I shrugged off Garrus' hand, moving in front of Shepard. "What of it? Enemy or not, at least we're doing something productive, unlike you who calmly sit on your lapels, laughing off the murder of thousands! If it was just a single colony of ANY of your own kind, you'd be busting your asses trying to find out who was responsible, and petitioning Humanity for aid. Far as I can see, you all gave up on Shepard and didn't even bother searching for her when she went MIA. At least Cerberus gave enough of a damn to confirm her death. None of you have any right to complain when someone else picks up something you threw away."

...Not sure if they were mroe shocked, or pissed-off.

"Of all the gall... And just who the hell are you, human?" The Turian spat, trying to sound commanding.

Sounded more like constipated, to me.

"I am the last American Marine, from the year 2015. I knew nothing of this world when I got out of cryo, but I'm damned impartial, and even I can see that you're just another trio of worthless, parasitic politicians. Everything I've seen has shown that you three outta be on your goddamn knees right about now, begging for forgiveness. You don't just owe Shepard your miserable lives; you owe her ten THOUSAND! And now we're cashing it in." Stunned looks on the Turian and Asari faces, while the Salarian's eyes merely widened a fraction.

Turning my head back to glance at Shepard, I saw she had a smrik on her face, and had a plan of her own to... 'Convince'(Guilt) the council into getting off their asses.

"He's right. We were on Horizon less than forty-eight hours ago, fighting back the Collectors, trying to save the few remaining colonists that hadn't yet been abducted. There were damn few; more than eight hundred of them had been taken, probably more. If you want to sit there and honestly say you're doing somehting to make the galaxy a better place, then help us! Soldiers, equipment, funding, information, resources, something! Cerberus spent everything they had building the Normandy SR2 and rebuilding me, and all the Illusive Man can do at this point is sit back and watch. We've been running with nothing and going by the seat of our pants, and we've still managed to hit them back. With your aid, we can stop the Collectors permanently, before they have a chance to target other species."

After her long-winded aregument, the three councilors shared looks.

Then, the Asari spoke. "...We cannot publicly aid you, given your ties, but perhaps there is a compromise. Something to show peripheral support."

Turian: "Hmph. Learn to keep your subordinates in line. Shepard, if you keep a low profile and restrict your operations to the Terminus systems, we'll reinstate your Spectre status."

...Shepard drily responded, "What does that mean? Will I need to start filing reports...?"

The Salarian shook his head. "That won't be necessary. This is just a show of good faith on our part; you will also regain full access to the Spectres' resources."

"We cannot become involved in an investigation of the colonies in the Terminus systems, but Spectre reinstatement shows our support of you personally." Waitaminute, waitaminute, waitaminute... This is starting to sound like a goddamned PR move...

Shepard looked at Anderson, who looked annoyed, albeit at the council, not me, oddly enough.

"...I suppose pressing a button is all I can ask of you, huh?" She said, looking back to the three holograms. "Yeah, that's worth it... Those twenty-four hundred lives were well spent. Honourable deaths, sacrificed to force your hands into doing something effortless that doesn't mean a damn thing. I'm done. Do whatever the hell you want, I just hope you sleep better than I do." Her voice... Sounded hollow, tired, emotionless...

Fuck. Yep, I screwed the pooch on this one.

The three vanished, their communication devices deactivated. Anderson's omni-tool flashed, and he looked it over. "Well... If nothing else, you're a Spectre again. Are you alright, Shepard?"

"Yeah," She answered too quickly, still sounding a lot older than she is. "Yeah... I will be. Just this one time, I had faith in them... I thought they might see things our way, just this once."

I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, apologizing. "I'm sorry, Shepard. That was my fault. I should've just kept my damn mouth shut."

She looked up, and I saw her smile. "No, I should be thanking you. I was about to tell them to go fuck themselves, but you gave me an idea. Just too bad it didn't work."

Garrus joined us, chiming in with, "Just like old times, Shepard. At least now we won't have to worry about them trying to get in our way. And no paperwork... That's always a plus."

"Heh, true enough... Alright. Let's get back to it." She turned back to the Human Councilor, shaking his hand. "It's been good seeing you, Anderson. Don't work yourself to death, you hear?"

The older man smirked, throwing back, "Just so long as you don't die on me again, Shepard. Good luck, and godspeed."

And like that... We were outta there.

**...**

'_That boy... Heh, he's a good fit for her. Two headstrong, straightforward soldiers... Now there's a pair to be seen._' Anderson thought, shaking his head with a wry smile. '_I wonder if she even knows how he feels... Knowing her? Hah, not a chance in hell. Poor bastard._'

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Back in the Councilor's office...**

The door opened. "Anderson, we need to talk about... Hm? Anderson?"

The councilor was leaning against the rails again, smiling.

"Did you find good fortune, Anderson?"

He chuckled, replying, "That I did, Udina... That I did."

The elder man also found himself smiling. "You'll take to share it with me sometime. Now, about the colonial tax rates..."

Anderson turned, giving his advisor a sardonic look. Then he noticed the outstretched cofee cup.

"I thought you'd prefer to discuss it on the move. You see, there's a banquet in the honor of someone or other, and we've been invited."

Anderson took the cup, moving alongside his assistant towards their shuttle, rehearsing their individual speeches for the event.

...Such is the life of the modern politician...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Later, on board the Normandy...**

"Shit, fuck!" I cursed, as I scorched myself trying to weld the plate in place.

"_What now? Don't tell me you fucked up the welding again..._" Kenneth's Scottish voice came over the radio, and I brusquely replied,

"Damnit, Scotty! I'm a soldier, not a welder!"

Gabby suddenly busted out laughing, and over the radio, I heard her fall over, rolling on the floor. Well, I felt the rolling, as I was maybe ten feet away, under the grating. Though I don't know if it was from the joke, or calling him Scotty.

Either way.

"_Hahahahahaha! Nice! I didn't think anyone knew that show anymore!_" Joker came onto the frequency, laughing his tail off.

Kenneth just kinda... "_Huh...? I dun get it. Gabby, you a'ight? ...Gabby?_"

Suddenly, I felt something shift... Sounded like-

"Fuck."

***Pul-TSHCK!*** I was right. Something broke nearby, sounded like one of the brackets...

Great... Even more shit I've gotta fix.

"Kenneth, you suck."

"_Wot? You agreed to it! Even if it was under duress, it counts._"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Lunarwolf, you might wanna get your lemdar checked, it needs some calibrating.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Can you find the Star Trek reference? It's obvious, people.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Rangers lead the way; Right behind the Marines! OORAH!"**_** -Unofficial saying of the USMC Force Recon. Damned if it ain't true, my brothers. Oorah.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Sho, a man walksh into a bar with a monkey... I forget the resht of the joke, but your mother ish a whore." -**_**Sean Connery**_


	13. Chapter 13 The End?

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**WOOOOOO 10,000 views! OORAH!**_

_**-Neurotically yours, the Author.**_

_**Also, I love Foamy.(I do not OWN!)**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#13 _**Like a Fucking Machine**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Two days later...**

"So, we got any fireworks around here?"

"...Fireworks?" Jacob parroted, looking confused.

Nodding excitedly, "Yeah, y'know, explosives. C4, TNT, dynamite, semtex..."

He blinked. "Oh. Right, HE. Yeah, we've got some of that lying around here somewhere." He moved over to one of the larger armor lockers, opening it and rifling around for several seconds.

"Aha! Knew we had some." He pulled out something rectangular, maybe an inch and a half thick, six high by eight across, with a screen on it. "C12, modular demolition charge. I know Garrus and Zaeed always carry kicker charges for locked doors, but no one really carries high explosives on a daily basis."

I took the profferred object looking it over. Weighed about four and a half pounds, give or take. "C12? Sounds familiar... Huh. So, I'm guessing it uses magnets to stick to whatever you're blowing up?"

He gave me a thumbs-up. "Dead on. Press all five of your fingers against the screen for three seconds to activate, then enter the countdown and get the hell out of dodge. You used to be a demo man way back?"

I gave another nod, setting the explosive down. "Aye, I was the only one crazy enough to carry the stuff who wasn't our designated sapper. The guy who taught me was an ex-SAS demolition expert, loved handling the tools of the trade. Can these be activated remotely, or is it foolproof?"

He shook his head. "Nope, manual activation only. Some models can be linked to an armorsuit computer, but I don't reccommend it, since it can be hacked. The only ones we handle have an autistic system, and can't be deactivated by anyone without taking the whole thing apart, or being the one who activated it. Thus the fingerprint recognition. And just so you know, compared to the C4 of your twenty-first century, these are about ten times as destructive. " Hm. Very nice.

Ooh, wait.

"What about grenades? Surely they've got those, here in the future." He shook his head again, this time with a sardonic expression.

"The only corporation that manufactures those is HK, and they halted production some year and a half ago. Something about a widespread recall, due to a newer design in the works." HK?

...Great. Hk still hates its customers.

"Well, that's lovely. Hand me a few more of those C12s, might need 'em later on. We got enough stocked?" He passed me two more, whick I then loaded into my rear storage case, shifting everything into proper place.(Datapad, spare medi-gel, extra thermal clips, and now, three C12 parcels. And I've STILL got room to spare! Hammerspace!)

"Yeah, we've got plenty, plus all the materials to manufacture more. Not like anyone uses 'em too often."

Heheheheh, I can't wait to get a chance to try these out...

Suddenly, a chill ran up my spine, the hair on the back of my neck standing on-end...

I spun, slinging my knife before I even thought about it, reflexes taking over.

The sharpened steel flew through the air, staking itself in the wall across the room, just to the left of the door.

*Beat*

"Whoa! What was that for?!" A feminine voice called out, a faint outline appearing, a see-through silhouette.

Before several arcs of electricity rode across its surface, and that silhouette became opaque, solid...

Within seconds, we could both see a young woman wearing a strange, skintight leather-like outfit, the cowl of which, was staked to the wall. Even under it, I could see her eyes wide with shock.

"Huh. Anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on strangers?" Jacob asked, a wry smirk on his face.

"Yes, but I never paid them any mind. This is the first time I've been caught." She deadpanned, her voice betraying a slight asian accent.

Hm.

"Somehow, I get the feeling you haven't learned your lesson. I take it you're Kasumi Goto?" I ventured, keeping an eye out for signs of deception.

"Oh? So you've heard of me."

Shrugging, "Nah, Shepard just said we were going to pick up another stray. Next time you come up behind me, I might not miss."

With all the grace of a slightly irritated porcupine, I plucked my knife from the wall, sheathing it as I walked out, calling back, "Thank you for your time, Jacob."

. . .

**Inside the Armory**

"So... What's his problem?"

Jacob shrugged. "Not sure. Think he's annoyed at himself for nearly killing someone unintentionally again."

"...Again?"

"Yeah... He does that. Starting to think he was an assassin, with the way he kills on reflex. So, whatcha need?"

Kasumi shook her head, smiling. "Oh, nothing. Just admiring the view."

And like that, she vanished...

Jacob shook his head, going back to his workbench.

"Women."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Left, right, low.. RAH!" I swung again, flipping the weapon in my hand, turning as I brought it behind me and up, finishing the move with a left hook and roundhouse, completing by bringing the steel over my head and down, clanging against the floor.

"Not good enough..."

I stood back up, retaking my stance.

Harder... Sharper... Better... Faster... Stronger. Never give up, never give in. Fight, kill, win.

Do not hit at all if possible... But never hit softly. One swing, one blow, ten kills. Fight, kill, win.

"Fight..." Low slash, step through.

"Kill." Bring it up, through their neck.

"Win!" Follow-through with the left hook, complete with turnabout right elbow.

Though I broke my leash... I cannot break that mentality.

"Once more..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Fight... Kill. WIN!" Shepard stopped, and blinked, looking down into the hold, finding herself transfixed once more...

He's still training... Practicing on his own.

_'But those words... Is that his creed? Or a promise he made?' _

Strange and stranger.

She shook her head, stepping back into the elevator, taking it up to her cabin. They would arrive at Haestrom within two hours.

Shepard hoped with all her heart that Tali was alright. They were in Geth territory.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Haestrom, huh... Never imagined I'd be going back into Geth territory." Garrus mused, looking over the holographic representation of the planet.

"We're getting unusual readings, Shepard. Apparently, the local star's radiation is having an exceptionally adverse affect on the planet... Direct exposure will overheat armorsuit systems, might cause problems with weapons, as well." Miranda informed, looking over a datapad.

"Mordin?"

The Salarian shook his head. "Most unusual... This star is young, comparatively. It seems to have aged considerably faster than the norm. Unlikely that I could create a countermeasure for extreme UV exposure in such a short time period, Shepard. Reccommend that once on the surface, you remain in the shade if possible, to minimize damage."

Sighing, she looked back to the hologram. "Great... So, anyone up for seeing some Quarian architecture?"

The resident Turian renegade chuckled. "There's two words you don't expect to hear together..."

Jacob just shook his head. "Got that right."

Shepard smiled one of her too-kind, too-sweet smiles. "Oh? So you're volunteering?"

Both men sweatdropped. "...No, but I take it you're volunteering us?"

She nodded brightly. Garrus sighed, looking over at me. "I don't suppose you're willing to trade out?"

I gave him an odd look. "Whattaya mean? She was about to tell me to grab my kit."

. . .

Shepard blinked, levelling her stare on me, as did many of the others. "Since when do you read minds?"

I beamed. "Trade secret, Commander. You'll have to torture it out of me."

"I've half a mind to..."

Grinning, I got in one last jibe. "Kinky. Shall I grab the cuffs?"

. . .

"Just go get on the shuttle..." Shepard retorted, trying her damndest to cover the blush that started creeping up her neck.

Heheh, score!

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The ride down wasn't bad. Not really.

For once, Shepard had on her helmet, and was checking the seal as we rode down. I was looking over my sidearm, having pulled it apart to give it a spot inspection before we hit the ground. Reassembled and reloaded, I checked the sights, holstering it on my side.

Pulling my M3 from my calf, I gave it the first look since I'd set it there, having not needed to draw it yet. Fully loaded, sights are good, it's good to go.

Second knife, clear. Spare kit, all green. Pulling my rifle, I set the butt against the floor between my knees, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck.

I noticed the others running through similar pre-drop mannerisms; Jacob was looking over an Avenger he'd brought, while Garrus had a different rifle I hadn't seen. Looked a little odd... Kinda like the rifle version of the M6, what with the forend. Huh.

Well, no time to contemplate on that.

"_We're in the pipe, five by five. Drop-off in seven mikes." _The pilot's voice same through the radio, signalling that we'd entered the planet's atmosphere, and would be landing in seven minutes. This time, we had a female pilot. Huh. Sounds familiar...

"Roger that, keep us steady." Shepard responded. Helmet in place, the Commander drew her own rifle, checked chamber, and set hers down in the same manner I had.

"I noticed you're wearing your helmet again, Shepard. Worried about sunburn, are we?" I teased, nudging her side.

"Shut up..." She sounded exceptionally embarassed... Wonder why?

"Oh? Struck a tender spot, have I? Come now, just how DID you get so red-faced, anyway?" Though my tone was teasing, I was honestly wondering... How does one get sunburn on a spaceship? Not to mention I'm still worried about her going into an area with elevated UV rays with her burnt up skin. Heatsroke isn't pleasant in ANY century.

"Enough! Shut up and keep your snide remarks to yourself." She snapped, her voice a low and threatening growl.

...? What was her-

A sudden jolt ran through my entire body, my vision greying out and every muscle locking up for an instant, as unbearably sharp pain shot down my neck. I couldn't even breathe, it hurt so much...

And like that, as quick as it came, the pain was gone.

"...Understood, Shepard." My body responded of its own accord, as I felt something... Odd, prodding the back of my mind, the still-stiff tendons in my shoulders twitching involuntarily.

As though, I, Was...

I don't-

_'What... What was I...?' _

**. . . . .**

As she ordered him to quiet down, Shepard noticed something odd out of the corner of her eye... Just the briefest flash of light in Blade's visor, before it faded out of sight, as he eerily responded,

"...Understood, Shepard." His voice had changed, becoming something inhuman-sounding; his usual upbeat, sarcastic, teasing dialect replaced with a mechanical monotone.

Figuring he was just trying to unsettle her, she paid it no mind.

...It wasn't until much, much later that she took notice of that change, and regretted her actions.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The shuttle made landfall, and out I stepped, sweeping my rifle left and right, checking high and low. "Clear. Watch the sunlight and stick to the shadows."

A solid stone walkway, leading downward. Several large squared-off stone pillars on our left offered some patches of shade.

HUD showed a warning against direct sunlight exposure; _overheats armorsuit, extended time spent under direct light will cause issues with kinetic barrier emitters, as well as weapon function. Maximum operational time in this enviornment; fourteen hours of direct exposure before operator fatality. Reccommend utilizing shade to prevent damage. _

The others were out soon, and just as they stepped out, I heard Jacob remarking, "Damn... And I thought life support was hot."

Garrus remained silent as Shepard started off downhill, flinching the moment she stepped into the light.

"Double-time it people, no sense in dragging our heels."

With a nod, I moved ahead of the group, jogging down towards a large steel gate and guardhouse below us.

The moment I entered the light, an indicator appeared on my visor, alerting me to rising weapon and suit temperatures. I ignored it for now, prioritizing a visual sweep of the area before worrying about equipment failure.

Left, clear. Center, high, check. Right-side, no targets in range. Clear.

Down at the bottom I came to a halt, back against the wall near the door to the gatehouse. I banged a fist against the console, turning and stepping inside with weapon raised-

Bodies, two of them. One Quarian, and one synthetic... Geth, I suppose. After a quick check for life signs, I knelt by the nearest dead alien, examining the corpse...

It was fresh, the blood recently dried. Within six hours, give or take.

A few moments later, I heard the others catching up.

"Any survivors?" Shepard asked, entering the room.

"None. One Quarian, one synthetic; both DOA, killed within six hours. No drag marks, they died where they fell. Console in front of you has a recording, gate controls are on your left." Within seconds, Shepard was on that console, figuring how to get the recording to play.

Garrus and Jacob were right on her heels, while I began searching the Quarian for identification. He looked like a soldier, with cases for thermal clips on the front of his suit and heavier plating than the other Quarians I've seen. A rifle lay next to his hand, with a pistol on his side. There was something...

Aha. A type of necklace or chain was under some of the plating that covered his chest, and had some sort of alien writing on it. I took it in my hand and gave a quick yank, the band snapping without incidentent. After placing it in my case, I stood, moving for the door.

"Expand motion sensor to one-fifty; prioritize active scans for synthetics and Quarian biosigns." I spoke quietly, refocusing on the task at hand.

_Understood, Operator. Scanning..._

The circle shifted to the center of my visor, becoming more transluscent, showing range readings.

Other than the four of us... Nothing.

Strange.

_This is a Geth-controlled world, Operator. They do not actively scan the surface with infantry units; expect patrolling drop ships to be transporting Geth combatants. _

Hmph. Lovely.

Standing, I noticed the others had finished with the recording, and Garrus was working the gate controls. Within seconds, we could all hear the massive heavy-alloy door opening.

I moved past them, stepping outside as I scanned the area for hostiles. Never hurts to be paranoid.

"Alright, let's move." I heard Shepard give the order, and I started through the gate, checking right, left and high, keeping an eye on my motion tracker. This place looked like a granite or slate quarry, stone grey with large squared-off stone blocks and pillars abound.

...Perfect cover and concealment for a Geth lying in wait.

I moved quickly, checking behind the first block, finding nothing.

_**FLASH WARNING**__ INCOMING GETH DROPSHIP TO YOUR 12 O'CLOCK IN 30 SECONDS_

"Get cover! Incoming dropship at twelve high!" I shouted, vaulting over the block and dropping down behind it, pressing my back against the stone. The other three were hurriedly rushing towards the same block I was behind, hunkering down and out of an approaching aircraft's sightline.

Seconds ticked by...

As the sound of an engine started to drone overhead, I held up a hand for the others, five fingers. Then four. Then three. Two, one...

The engine noise got much louder, as my motion tracker expanded, showing the dropship to be some two hundred-thirty metres out, approaching rather slowly for an aircraft. Not good.

Pressing my back against the cold stone, I slowed my breathing, calming my mind... A new message appeared on my visor.

_ECM interference and infrared masking engaged. Excess movement is discouraged. Two-minute operation time-2:00_

_1:59_

_1:58_

_1:57..._

ECM interference...? Electronic CounterMeasures... Right. Messes with electronic scans. Then masking our infrared signature... Or just my own?

I looked to Shepard, quietly advising, "Hold position and stay still. They haven't seen us yet."

She gave me a look as though I had grown a second head, but did as I suggested, whispering to the others to keep still. There was a tense fifty second wait as the aircraft passed over us, the entire time spent waiting for the ship to turn around and start shooting.

But, that time never came. The ship flew off, away from us without looking back. We continued to wait an extra half-minute for it to get out of sight completely, before Shepard let out a breath I hadn't noticed she'd been holding.

"Whew... Damn if that wasn't nerve-racking."

Garrus looked between Shepard and I, remarking, "And just HOW in the hell didn't they see us? Last I checked, we're not invisible." Jacob was nodding, also looking perturbed.

Shepard turned to stare at me, delegating that explanation onto my shoulders.

Thanks for that...

"My armorsuit has some form of ECM and thermal masking tech that kicked in on its own." I offered with a shrug, followed by a long silence.

. . .

"Well, that's comforting... Give us a heads-up next time something like that pops up."

I nodded. "Understood, Shepard."

And like that, we were up and moving.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Hold." I held up a hand, putting my back against the stone next to the corridor, noticing three unknown signatures on my motion sensor, with distant gunfire echoing through the area.

"Three unknowns in there with automatic rifles, Shepard." I informed, as She went quiet for a moment, listening...

"Pulse rifles. They're Geth."

"Understood," Nodding, I slid around the corner with my gun up before she said another word.

First target! One Geth out in front, raising its weapon-

I had my own on target, the dot lined up right on the flashlight it called a head, tugging the trigger.

***Powfuhl!*** One shot, impacting its shields

_All Geth possess higher than average shielding, Operator. Reccommend liberal use of fully automatic fire._

Suddenly, several impacts struck me in the chest like a flurry of midget punches, my barriers flashing as these little *_Peew-Peew_* sounds echoed through my helmet, blue tracers following each bullet's path.

I switched my rifle's selector to auto, moving forward as I sprayed the robot down with half a clip's worth, most of which were absorbed by their shields before some kind of white fluid spurted onto the ground with every impact, the light on its head finally going out as it dropped.

Huh.

_Geth pulse rifle munitions pierce most kinetic barriers; however, actual projectiles possess little velocity when compared to conventional firearms. Enemy slug penetration of armorsuit likelihood: .09% Avoid letting them target your neck and visor, Operator. _

I can see why these Geth are considered such a threat... I'm guessing regular armor isn't as good as what I've got, and relies far too much on their shields. Probably has more blind spots, too.

Well, that aside...

I moved up the valley-like area, dropping down with my back against a stone cylinder, just behind the two Geth that were firing upon someone else. I saw Shepard and the others rushing up to my position, just as I turned in place, taking a knee and resting my rifle on the bit of masonry, taking aim...

Two targets, both shielded; I aimed for the right-side one, holding the trigger, hosing him down.

Just as my weapon clicked dry and the second Geth turned, firing at me, I dropped low, diving to my right as I smacked the clip ejector with my off-hand, putting twenty-two rounds in the remaining Geth.

Getting to my feet, I dashed over, kicking the weapon out of the still-twitching robot's hand, firing once more into its chest. As it stopped entirely, I checked my sheilds, finding them at three-quarters; hmph. Those pulse rifle rounds really drain shield chrage, huh...

While I scanned the area once more, Shepard clapped me on the shoulder, berating, "I thought I told you to stop running off on your own."

"There were only three Geth to deal with. Judging by the sound of gunfire, our time will be better spent aiding whoever the Geth are fighting, rather than bickering." She shook her head with another one of her cute, worried scowls, before hurrying over to one of the dead Quarians, picking up what looked like a radio. As she listened in, responding to someone names Kal'Reegar, Jacob picked up one of the fallen alien's weapons, something that lookes like a submachine gun.

"M-9 Tempest, huh... Yeah, I think Miranda would like to get her hands on one of these." He mused, looking it over.

Garrus chimed in with, "Yeah, I hear ERC has finally fixed the jamming problem with them. If you can handle the extra weight, it's a damn sight better than the M-4. Still not sure which idiot thought a burst-fire pistol was a good idea..."

M-4, huh... Yeah, even now, people hate the M4. Heheh.

"Hey, switch your comms to channel 617 Theta." Shepard called, and all three of us instantly got back on-track, the two of them switching on their omni-tools.

I quietly said, "Switch radio to channel six-one-seven Theta."

_Adjusting..._

"_...Found what we were after, but the Geth found us._" An unfamiliar voice came over the radio, male, Quarian, at a guess. "_They've got us pinned down. Can't get to our ship, can't transmit data through the solar radiation._"

"What's the status of your team?" Shepard asked, moving closer to the end of the corridor, looking out to where the sound of gunfire was coming from.

"_We were a small squad, dozen marines plus the science team._"

The Commander nodded, this time asking, "How are you holding up? We can be there in a few minutes."

Kal'Reegar was helpful, at least. "_Take it slow and careful, direct sunlight fries your shields all to hell. We're bunkered down at base camp across the valley. I left Tali'Zorah at a secured shelter, then doubled back to hold the chokepoint. Getting Tali out safely is our top priority. If you can extract her, we'll keep the Geth off your ass._"

"Right. Hold your position, we'll hit their back ranks." Shepard started forward, pulling up her rifle, when-

"_Wait! Watch your ass, we've got a dropship inbound!_"

Ah, crap.

***Puhl-Teeouuww!***

An explosion rocked the area, sounded like a stereotypical blaster from Star Wars...

*Whu-THUMPKH!*

...Aaaand that sounded like what we in the Marines call a 'complication.' Damnit.

"_Fuck! The door's blocked. You're going to have to find a way through, Shepard. And watch yourself, there're still some Geth in the area._" Obviously, judging by the few errent bullets coming our way.

"Alright, you heard him. Garrus, post here and provide overwatch. Blade, take point." I was already moving.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After dealing with the half-dozen remaining Geth appropriately,(Meaing, with liberal application of lead) Jacob and Garrus were on security, as Shepard and I inspected the massive column of solid stone masonry that had fallen in front of the door. It was roughly... Nine feet high, maybe nine and a half, and at least three feet thick.

"How do you want to handle this, Shepard? Up and over, or explosives?"

She stared at me, parroting, "Explosives?"

"Heh, perfect timing for picking up that C12, Blade. Real _convenient._" Jacob remarked, a wry smirk on his face.

The Commander continued to stare. "C12? When the hell did you get any of that? And mroe importantly, why didn't you share?"

...Somehow, I get the feeling she loves to blow shit up.

I shrugged. "You didn't ask."

Well, the sardonic look on her face would've been much funnier if she didn't have the helmet, but I'm still happy she was wearing it. "Yeah, I could go for a fireworks display. Hit it."

Nodding, I took a knee and set down my rifle, pulling out one of the parcels I'd gotten. I pressed it against the stone, the back sticking instantly the moment I activated the device. A timer appeared on the screen, with numbered keys on the right side, in what looked like green LED. I tapped out 45, and hit the start button.

Instantly, the timer took up the entire screen.

_0:45_

_0:44_

I looked at Shepard...

"Okay, now would be a good time to- **RUUUUN!**" She turned and started tear-assing away, Jacob and Garrus staring after her for a moment, stunned.

Heh, cute. I picked up my rifle, following close behind as the three of us hauled ass after our Commander, taking cover. I was counting off the seconds in my head, making doubly sure even as the timer was displayed on my visor.

After vaulting over the masonry Shepard was currently hunkering behind, the four of us got comfortable, and set in to wait the remaining half minute. And after the seconds ticked by, I held up my hand, five fingers up.

Four.

Then three.

Two.

One.

***Ba-DOOOOOSHCK!***(Now, that doesn't sound like 'douche' at all, does it?)

For a few seconds, all I could hear was a ringing sound, as several tiny bits of stone rained down on the area. Standing, I gazed over the cover I was hiding behind, doing a quick BDA.

"Good effect on target." The entire column was _gone._

As in, there was a shallow crater maybe a foot deep and four across; it stopped less than two feet from the door, even. Heh, good stuff.

"Yeah, I'd say that counts as a 'good effect,' alright. Let's go." Shepard was up and moving, the rest of us jumping to catch up.

Yeesh, this woman's got more pep in her step than Zaeed after he torched Vido.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Through the door and the entryway, we entered what looked like an FOB-Forward operating base. A makeshift base of operations made from the materials available at the scene, or that you brought along with you. Inside...

***Powfuhl!*** I put a bullet in an active Geth that was on the floor, crawling towards us, before scanning the room... I found nothing more than bodies and consoles, as well as a weapons locker and a table laden with strange-looking firearms.

Jacob made a beeline for that table, while Shepard moved to one of the consoles that had a holographic bust shown, a communications device. While she conversed with another Quarian, Garrus raided the locker and I set up at an angle to the door, taking a knee with my rifle drawn and ready. With our luck, the Geth will bust in just as Shepard finishes talking with the Quarian.

. . .

Minutes ticked by and before long, Shepard moved to the door, calling, "Alright, door's open. Let's move."

With a nod, I got up and took point, waiting just a few moments for the others to stack up before slapping the door controls and stepping through. Down a ramp and to a doorway, I put my back to the wall, sidling closer...

_Targets nearby; Geth surveillance drones. They are utilizing optical camoflage; now adapting scanners-please wait..._

I raised a hand, signalling the others to hold position, as my suit VI worked and I keep a close eye on my motion sensor. It expanded, showing at least twelve enemy combatants nearby. C'mon... How much longer...

_...Complete. Now switching to active scanning._

Ah... Fourteen Geth, accompanied by eight drones.

"Fourteen Geth, at least two hunters among them, and eight drones. Hold..."

_Active scans adapted; now showing three dimensional area rendering._

On-screen, came a map of the area we were about to enter; it was outside once more, the scorching sunlight blocked by several pillars of stone. This was some kind of field, possibly a quarry, laden with stones and masonry, with aisles between the columns leading to a door on the opposite side of the area. Alright...

"We've got sunlight coming from the left side of the area, and narrow corridor-like firing lanes. Keep your eyes high, the drones cloak and attack in pairs." After that, I quietly added, "VI, transmit enemy scan data to Shepard's HUD and Garrus' visor. Highlight all targets."

_Understood, Operator. Transmitting..._

Shepard sucked in a breath. "What the..."

Garrus reached up, tapping the device over his eye, muttering to himself, "The hell?"

"Camouflaged targets will now be highlighted on your heads-up display." I glanced back, and found-

Shepard was openly staring at me, the other two doing their best to help. "Since when do you..."

"Shepard." She stopped, as I asked, "With the layout of the area, my skillset is best applied by breaking through the ride side and circling around, hitting their back ranks. Shall I?"

She was... Quiet, for a time, looking somewhat uncomfortable, I suppose.

"...Very well."

Nodding, I turned back, double-checking my weapon, before saying "On me in-" I held up a hand with three fingers.

Two.

One.

Let's rock.

Around I went, gun raised.

Two drones. Snapping my sights on the first one, I felt something shift, as my vision turned grey...

_Valhalla system-Active_

Everything slowed to a crawl, the drones seeming to move in slow motion, as I tugged the trigger twice, then took down the second, already moving for the right-side of the massive stone pillar in front of us.

This was... Different, than last time.

I feel...

_**Fast.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard rounded the corner, throwing aside her worries for the time being. But then found herself shocked again; Blade wasn't a mere four or five feet ahead, like she expected.

No, he was a good fifty or sixty feet ahead, already moving around the central pillar of the area; damn, that was quick.

'_Damnit, now isn't the time to worry about that..._' She chastised herself, rushing to the nearest cover, slamming her back against a pile of stacked and tethered concrete piping just as a slug whistled by, just barely missing her shields. Garrus was already next to her, resting his rifle atop the highest one, taking aim with his Mantis.

Taking a breath, Shepard rounded the cylinders on one knee, keeping the forend of her rifle steady against it as she fired on the Hunter Geth in the distance as it approached. The unit was highlighted with a red outline, and she noticed that it was still visible; even when she shifted behind cover. A moment later, she could see other Geth outlines... Their positions, even behind and through cover.

Eyes wide, Shepard realized why; Blade's armor was transmitting that information to theirs in realtime, and even his own silhouette was apparent, outlined in blue, as well as Jacob's. Amazing...

Something like this should be standard-issue for all Alliance troops, or all N7, at least. An IFF system that also targets and highlights enemies... Good thing we brought him down here, if nothing else.

Still... Blade's been acting strange ever since we got off the shuttle.

'_Is he pissed off at me...? No, can't be... He's not the type. Agh, c'mon Shepard, get your head in the game!_'

With a quick shake of her head, the Commander bound out of cover and took aim, hosing down the exposed Geth as she charged their lines, heart racinging, adrenaline flooding her system.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Stack up."

We moved, taking our places on either side of the door, Jacob and Garrus on one, Shepard and myself on the other.

I didn't see anything on my motion tracker, but I wasn't going to trust that entirely. Never place too much faith in technology.

Within seconds, she clapped my shoulder and I pounded the door controls, rushing inside with my gun raised, checking left, front, right and high.

"Room clear." The others were already inside, checking the area. Shepard moved to one of the shutters, looking over a console. I kept my eyes on the nearby stairwell, scanning the room... Something about this setup doesn't fit right.

But what's...

Eyes wide, I spun around, gun raised as I heard something clicking and clacking, before noticing that Shepard had opened the shutters, revealing windows that overlooked what seemed to be a construction zone, one filled with...

With Geth, a LOT of them. And on the far end of the area...

Was a massive construct with four legs and a Geth-like neck and head, flashlight face included, which shifted its stance as its face began to glow...

"Ohhhhhh, shiiiit!"

_**WARNING! **__High level threat detected, reccommend immediate evasion. _

Ah, crap.

"GET DOWN!"

I grabbed Shepard by the back of her collar, pulling her back as I dived away from the window, shoving her under me in mid-flight.

The tense two and a half seconds that passed felt like years as I landed on top of her, just before-

***Pouieew-PuhlTSSSHHHCKA!***(Another crappy electro-explosion sound effect. DEAL WITH IT)

Giving my head a quick shake to get rid of the slight off-kilter feeling of having my ears blasted, I got to my feet, pulling Shepard up as I practically dragged her well away from the windows, towards the stairwell.

The moment she was clear of the risk of being blown to pieces, I hauled Shepard up, steadying her when I noticed the Commander was swaying on her feet. Think she got an earfull, too.

"Ungh, definately like old times." Garrus grunted with a confidant smirk, hopping to his feet as the Turian hop-skip-jumped out of that thing's line of fire.

"The hell was that... You okay, Shepard? Shepard?" I asked, trying to get a look at Shepard's eyes to make sure she didn't have a concussion. Pupils slightly dilated, but responsive to light. No shaking, doesn't seem to have anything broken...

"Geth Colossus, they're like intelligent, walking tanks." The sniper responded, as Jacob moved closer to check on Shepard, remarking,

"Surprised to see one in these old ruins. Shame we didn't bring Zaeed."

Suddenly, "Yeah, wish I'd brought that rocket launcher right about now." Shepard said, before adding, "I'm fine, Blade. You can let go of me now."

I did so with a nod, hesitating a moment to make sure she didn't fall before I moved down the nearby stairs, rifle raised. I could hear someone shooting something nearby, and it didn't sound like Geth...

Through the door and down, then I turned right, noticing-

"Over here! Get to cover!" A voice called out, sounding to be the same one as we heard on the radio earlier. I dropped down a few feet, and found a Quarian hunkered down behind a guardrail with a rocket launcher.

I moved quickly, dropping down with my back against the railing next to him, glancing over to get a better look at the battlefield...

Damnit... At least twenty, thirty Geth, plus that Coloccus... Fuck. Shepard and the others hurried over, taking cover nearby. The Quarian leaned over the rail and fired off a quick rocket, before ducking back down and introducing himself.

"Squad leader Kal'Reegar, Migrant Fleet Marines. We talked on the radio before that dropship arrived. Still got no idea why you're here, but this ain't the time to be picky-"

***Puhl-TSSHHCK!*** A heavy round impacted the stone wall not a foot from his head, as he flinched down, grimacing.(I think. I couldn't hardly see through the faceplate of his helmet) "Shit... Tali's inside, over there. The Geth killed the rest of my squad, and they're trying to get to her. Best I've been able to do is draw their attention."

SHepard sounded worried. "Are you sure she's still alive?"

"The observatory is reinforced, even the Geth will need time to get through it. Heh, and it's pretty damn hard to hack a door when someone's firing rockets 'atcha!" He glanced over the rail again, stifling a curse. "The Geth are near platoon-strength, but the Colossus is the worst part. It's got a repair protocol, huddles up and fixes itself. I can't get a clear shot when it's down like that. I tried to move in closer, and one of the bastards shot a hole clean through my suit."

"How bad?"

Kal'Reegar shook his head. "Bad enough to slow me down, but I'll live. Hopefully."

She nodded. "Alright. Stay here and keep your head down, we'll deal with 'em. Garrus, post here and start up your long-range scrapyard. Jacob, on me. Blade?" I looked to her.

"Can I count on you to do something stupid and damn-near suicidal?"

I blinked, deadpanning, "That entirely depends on what it is."

"I need you to move up the center and provide a distraction, keeping the Geth in cover without getting yourself killed while I move into position."

I was... Quiet, for a moment, as I thought that over.

"Any objections?"

No... I will do it. "Hmph... None. I'll earn my pay on this one, and get some cheap thrills as a bonus."

Shepard nodded with a smirk, outlining, "Jacob, we're heading up the right side. Let's move!"

With a nod, I grabbed the rail and flipped myself over it, tucking and rolling as I hit the ground, dashing straight up the center of the area, vaulting over a concrete cylinder, kicking a Geth to the ground in the process, jamming my rifle to its head and pulling the tirgger before it reacted.

I was already feeling those impacts striking my armor from the left and front as I dashed to the nearest cover, dropping down and shifting my sights to the left side of the battlefield.

There were two Geth there, still shooting. I aimed, hosing down the first scraphead with two dozen rounds, snapping onto the next one-

It ducked down behind some kind of storage crate, damnit.

Man... This is going to be annoying.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Guah! Sh-Shepard!" Jacob shouted, and I turned to look in their direction, and saw a... Horrifying sight.

Jacob was tangling with a Geth infantry, wrestling with it for his shotgun, as Shepard was tackled to the ground by one of the larger, red robots that held her in place.

The Commander's rifle was malfunctioning, and she had a sidearm in her hand, struggling to free herself from the massive Geth, before I noticed her eyes shoot wide, staring at-

I spun, and saw what had her freaking. The Colossus was about to fire! Shit!

In that instant, I dashed towards the right-side of the battlefield, rifle tossed aside, moving faster than I'd ever moved before.

***Pul-TEEIOUWW!*** It fired...

FUCK!

No, no and fuck no!

And as I moved, everything turned grey...

I fired my grappling hook to the guardrail, pulling myself through the air, my suit's thrusters giving me a boost as I went, slamming into the Geth Destroyer, knocking it to the ground. Quickly as I could, I had Shepard in my arms, struggling to rip her free of the metal bastard's grasp, as-

_**WARNING! HIGH LEVEL THREAT 6 O'CLOCK EVADE IMMEDIATELY**_

No time...

"**No time, damnit!**" I stomped the robot, tearing Shepard free, throwing her well clear by shifting my weight back...

"NO!" She screamed, reaching out, desperately reaching for me.

And then... Everything went white.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"NO! BLADE!"

***PUL-TEEEEEEEEEEiiiiinnnngggg...!*** As her ears rung like a gong, the pain of her back impacting the stone ground was nothing, compared to the unbearable agony that ripped through her heart.

Scrambling to her feet, she sprinted headlong to him, hoping, praying that he-

That he...

Dropping to her knees, she grabbed him, immediately yanking her hands away as they were burned through the gloves of her armor, the plates of Blade's own glowing nearly white-hot. Still, she grabbed what she could and strained to flip him over, the adrenaline in her system preventing Shepard from even noticing just how much the man weighed.

But even as she stared into his visor... She saw nothing but her own reflection, and found that he wasn't breathing. He wasn't moving... He was-

He... He was dead...

**GAME OVER**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**DUN-DUN-DUHHH... Shock, egad! NO ONE saw this coming! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! **_

_**To be continued?**_

_**Continues: 3**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Can you find a phrase said by Theodore Roosevelt in this chapter? AND the PS1 video game shout-out? Not to mention, the one from Ghost in the Shell? **_

_**And holy fuck, you can even find a Binary Domain shout-out in here! Damn, I'm good!**_

_**There's also an Aliens reference, if you're keen enough to notice it.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Remember, kids; a wise man knows when it's time to- RUN LIKE A LITTLE BITCH!"-**_**Desert Punk. Episode 1, if I recall. A really funny show, and an excellant manga.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"**Planned Parenthood has killed more children than my AR15.**" _**-Unknown, but entirely true, heheh. Pro-gun and Pro-life. Sorry, but seriously; don't get rid of the kid 'cuz you aren't ready for them, that's the same as drowning 'em the day they're born. Give that child a chance to live their own life, it's the least you can do. If YOU can't afford to take care of them, then find an orphanage or a close friend/family member who can. Please.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Lesson number one... If, in a physical confrontation, an old fat man ever asks you if you are ready, you are going to learn a very unpleasant lesson. Most probably a painful one." -**_**Marc "Animal" MacYoung, an excellant knife combat instructor. I would know, he whipped my ass once.**_

_**...ONCE.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"**Never share a foxhole with anyone braver than you are.**" _**-Murphy's Law of Combat**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"When Fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross." **- _**Sinclair Lewis**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"**If everybody is thinking alike, then someone isn't thinking.**" -_**General George S. Patton**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"**A revolution is a struggle to the death between the future and the past.**" _**-Fidel Castro**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"I'm just a simple terrorist. Although... I suppose I'm a little high on heroism at the moment." **_**-Hideo Kuze, Ghost in the Shell S.A.C. 2nd GIG.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Sometimes it's better to ask for forgiveness, rather than permission." **_**-US Navy Rear Admiral Grace Hopper**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"I've found that asking 'politely' only works if you have the upper hand." -**_**Chief Aramaki, Ghost in the Shell S.A.C. Very sound advice, ya?**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Its not the guy that walks in with a gun and says he is going to start shooting that you have to worry about; its the guy that walks in and just starts shooting." -**_**Unknown**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Ladies, if you truly want a man to fall for you, kick him in the balls and then bite his dick while attempting to give him a blowjob.**_

_**Yes, that sounds completely messed up and you'd never think it would work, but seriously, that's how my cousin wound up getting married to his wife. She had watched him from afar for years as a friend of a friend and classmate in highschool, but said scenario played out when he called the girl in question by her sister's name.(Honest mistake, they were twins)**_

_**She then proceded to get flustered and pissed, kicked him in the nuts, and later that day, made it up to him with a blowjob before confessing her affections.**_

_**AND IT WORKED.**_

_**I still chuckle every time I think of it... Heheheheh. They have been together for eight years steady, and even have a kid with another one well on the way. The moral of this story, is that you should never, ever tell people embarassing stories about how you met your significant other, because they will be remembered, and you will be reminded of it every chance possible for the rest of your life. **_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**YES, I know there are a LOT of quotes'n'notes here at the bottom, I'm sorry, but I just kinda added in a bunch of these as I went. Hell, I got rid of a bunch of 'em, and only kept the ones that were good!**_


	14. Chapter 14 Can't Kill a Marine

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**"**_**Meh, he'll get better." **_**Oh, come on, that's just cold. And yes, that is a very good quote. Think I might steal that one from you, mate. Thanks.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#14 _**Ugh, not again... I want a refund**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Ah... I'm sorry, Shepard." Tali mumbled, shaking her head.

"It's not your fault... I got careless is all. And I'm sorry for earlier, Garrus. That was uncalled for." Shepard's turian friend just shrugged, and patted her shoulder.

"Perfectly understandable, Shepard. I'll go and hail the shuttle." As he walked out, Jacob followed, giving her a symathetic look. Not even a minute passed, before she got down on her knees by the dead Marine, quietly murmuring,

"God damn it all... I'm sorry, Blade..."

Though it had been years... Decades, even, since the grizzled veteran had last shed tears, she couldn't hold back the first, last, and singular tear that rolled down her cheek.

...All the while, she never noticed the slightest movement of his hand...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_Ba-dump...Ba-dump...Ba-dump..._

**. . .**

_'Ugh...'_ I blearily opened my eyes, feeling nothing but pain throughout my body, as though I'd been hit by a bloody train.

_Reactivation successful. Nanites reactivated. Armorsuit power restored. Kinetic barriers charging, weapon systems online. Operator functionality holding steady at 83%. All systems nominal; cleared to procede. _

Man... Feels like I just got run the fuck over... Just what in the nine bleeding hells hit me...?

_Armorsuit analysis of enemy electro-magnetic superconductor projectile complete; nanoweave has adapted, hardening against greater-intensity electro-magnetic fields. Kinetic barrier frequency optimized for increased protection from plasma- and superconductor-based munitions, as well as projectiles encased in disruptor fields, commonly found in Geth pulse rifles. Nanites adapting to compensate for after-effects of electro-magnesis._

Oh... Right. The Geth Colossus. And Shepard... Shit! Is she-?!

No matter how much it pained me, I forced myself to sit up, looking around the room. Looked like another of the Quarian buildings, solid stone with a few scattered consoles and the occasional destroyed Geth.

On the far side of the room...

There she was, conversing with a pair of Quarians, one of whom was the Marine we encountered earlier, just before engaging that multi-ped tank.

Right... On your feet, Marine.

I hauled myself up, surprising myself by not stumbling, and started for the trio. God, am I stiff.

_System alert; medical attention reccommended before next engagement. Severe electrical burns on shoulders, upper arms, upper and lower back. Local anesthetic and stimulants compensating. Suit hard-seal maintained, homeostasis restored. Time for self-repair completion: 16 hours._

Ah. That explains the smell of burning flesh. Right-O, then.

Onward I moved, silent as death... Until I got right behind the Commander, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Shepard."

Holy shit! She spun around but quick, lookling she'd just seen a ghost.(She had)

"W-what the fuck?! Blade?!" Oh, the look on her face was just priceless... Even with the helmet.

I nodded. "Are you alright, Shepard?"

...She gaped like a fish. "B-but, you- How-?" Eheheh, She's cute like this... Completely clueless.

"You haven't answered my query. Are you alright, Shepard?" Man, the one Quarian is looking amused, struggling not to laugh, I'd imagine. The Marine on the other hand, looked confused.

"But you- How? You... You weren't breathing..." I couldn't help smiling.

"There is nothing in this world or any other, that can kill a Marine. You haven't yet given me permission to die, Shepard." Wow. Now that female Quarian is snickering to herself, whereas Shepard herself is just...

Well. I'd imagine a picture of her face right now would be worth a good few laughs back on the Normandy. She was quiet for a few moments, before asking, "...Are you okay? After that hit, you were..."

I smiled once more, though she couldn't see it. "I'm fine, Commander. All systems copacetic." Through her visor, I could see her eyes narrow with worry.

"Don't lie to me, Blade. Are you okay?" Damnit. How does she...

_Update; evac shuttle is inbound. ETA four minutes._

Hmph. Right. "I will be, Shepard. The shuttle will be here soon... We should get moving." Before anything else, I remembered something.

I looked to the Quarian marine, fishing in my case for that necklace. "Kal'Reegar, I do believe this is yours." I handed it to him, and even through the faceplate, I could see his expression darken.

"Ah.. Keelah Se'lai, Dahk'Rayya. Thank you, human."

I inclined my head, and left the Marina to his devices. As I turned and started for the door, something on the floor caught my eye...

Right by where I'd been laid down, was my rifle. Heh, someone knows me too well. I picked it up as I went, slapping the clip ejector and checking the chamber, punching the door controls on my way out.

Even as I walked out, my ears perked up, just barely catching,

"Heehee, I've never known you to flirt, Shepard. You have a thing for the tall, dark, and undead type, huh?" The female Quarian Tali'Zorah, at a guess.

. . .

"Shut up, Tali." Shepard sardonically snarked, most probably with an indignant blush, as Tali broke out into fits of giggling.

...Well, this has been one hell of a day.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The shuttle rocked back and forth as we rode up and exited haestrom's atmosphere, the five of us in the passenger compartment riding out the turbulance in silence. Even Tali, whom I pegged as a chatterbox, remained quiet.

Possibly due to the great big honking elephant in the room; Me.

Jacob and Garrus were staring at me, slack-jawed in open amazement/shock. A human takes a direct hit from a Geth Colossus, dies, and less than an hour later is up walking, talking, and acting like nothing happened. Heh, their collective expressions of disbelief were almost as amusing as Tali gossiping with the Turian when she walked outside, whispering something to him that made the sniper bust out laughing, something that was likely at Shepard's expense, seeing as the Commander turned an even darker shade of red.

Ooh, speaking of red, Jacob had slapped himself when I stepped outside, trying to see if he was daydreaming. It was going to be hilarious hearing what Joker has to say about the handprint that now graces his cheek...

Ah, well.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

As the shuttle touched down, I was already on my feet, stepping out the door and rushing through decon, anxiously waiting for the techs to finish spraying us down. I normally wouldn't mind, but... Shepard had been giving me odd looks from the corner of her eye the entire way up, and I'd rather not get dragged into another of her compulsory 'therapy' sessions.

Nor do I feel like getting poked and prodded by the doc again. Yeah, I'll pass on the needles, thanks. So, gotta get through decontamination and find a shady spot to hang out until she forgets about it.

No sooner had the guys cleared us had I gotten into the elevator, and found myself joined by Shepard and our new crew member, Tali'Zorah.

Since Garrus and Jacob didn't wear hard-sealed helmets, they had to go through some extra decon procedures, heheh. Lucky me...

Anyway, up one deck, and the three of us stepped out, the two of them conversing the entire way. I quietly made myself scarce, ducking down into the hold before they'd even noticed I was gone.

Like a fuckin' ninja, man.

Oddly enough, Jack was nowhere to be found... Well, no matter. I plopped down in front of the workbench, unloaded and stripped my rifle, checking it over. A few new nicks and scratches in the paintjob, but nothing remarkable, otherwise.

A few moments cleaning and making sure everything was good to go and I reloaded it, restocking my supply of thermal clips from the case of them resting under the bench. Then I switched to my sidearms, repeating the process twice more.

After, I pulled my knives, testing their respective edges, then looked over my armor, or the bits that I could see, at least. Several new chips in the paint, as well as areas that frankly looked battle-worn, the paint faded and scraped, slight dings, dents and scratches covering the surface.

Well, it looks the part of battle armor, now...

A moment later, I noticed something.

My rear storage case felt a bit light. I unconsciencely reached back, unlatching and checking its contents, and found something odd.

I no longer had ANY of those C12 parcels, and the rest of my things were jumbled around, as though someone had very quickly rifled through them... Huh. Is that how they dealt with that Colossus? Hm. Maybe.

...Agh, damnit. My back is itching like crazy, now. Almost forgot about that, electrical burns, huh. Well, beats broken bones any day. I checked my omni, and saw that twenty minutes have passed.

Time flies when you're monologuing, I suppose.

Better go check on that.

Stretching languidly, I strapped my pistols back on, heading up the stairs. Jack will be back eventually, and this is the first place Shepard will check when she comes looking for me...

Which will be soon enough, to be sure.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Descending the steel stairs, Shepard made a mental note to herself to have neo-rubber covers placed over the panels, to prevent people in the hold from hearing her approach as much as to help keep the crew from slipping.

Anyway, down she went, looking for her recently-deceased teammate. Whatever he might say, Shepard had checked his pulse... He'd been dead, no question, for at least half an hour. And suddenly, he jumps up, good as new?

There is no way in hell, not possible. He lied before, saying he was just peachy... Then made an ambiguous statement, that he 'would' be alright. Well, if he insists that he's fine, then he can deal with a visit to Dr. Chakwas.

_'...Or not,'_ She finished, upon finding that he wasn't in the hold.

"Great... Now where did he go?" She rhetorically snarked to herself, turning around and starting back up the stairs, when a thought struck her.

Then Shepard immediately headed for the elevator, taking it down to the cargo bay, and upon stepping out, she found her quarry.

Blade was sitting on one of the crates, fiddling with the vambraces of his armor, helmet and pauldrons already removed. He looked up and blinked, then disinterestedly went back to what he was doing.

"Shepard," He greeted, still in that monotone voice that unsettled the Commander. It... Reminded her of Sovereign, lacking emotion and empathy, yet filled with inflection. Such an inhuman sound... Shepard tried to ignore it as best she could, but still had to suppress a shudder than ran up her spine.

"Why aren't you in the infirmary?" This is probably about as useful as trying to carry him there, but it's worth a try.

He removed the left vambrace, starting on the right. "Because I do not require intensive medical attention, nor do I want to waste the doctor's time."

Shepard frowned. "You took a direct hit from a Colossus, hell, you _died_! You shouldn't have gotten up from that, you shouldn't even be walking right now."

He looked up, levelling a stare at the Commander. "And you were spaced after being inside of a ship when it was completely destroyed. I suppose we're both 'dead men walking,' are we not?"

Scowling, "I spent two years in a coma and under intensive surgery. You got up and walked it off after an hour."

He dropped the vambrace next to its pair, and began undoing the latches that held the chestplate of his armor in place. "Don't you trust me, Shepard?"

She tried not to wince at that jibe, but retorted, "I trust you to work harder than any other sane person on this ship, but I also trust you will get yourself killed someday without someone making sure you take care of yourself."

He nodded sagely. "That is a keen observation."

. . .

What, that's it? No other witty remarks? Man, he's changed. Wonder why...

That's when Shepard noticed the medical kit he had next to him, as well as a canister of medi-gel. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

He nodded. "For the most part. Cuts, gashes, broken bones, dislocations and bullet wounds are my field of expertise, but I've a working knowledge of how to treat burns."

Burns...? Oh, crap.

"Wait, don't-!" He finished removing the main plating of his armor, pulling off the undersuit in the same motion. His eye twitched and a pained grimace passed over his expression, but it disappeared as soon as it came.

Surprisingly, Shepard didn't hear the horrid, stomache-wrenching ripping sound that she expected; instead, only a slight tearing, which the big man ignored. Upon dropping the upper half of his undersuit to the floor and rolling his shoulders, he asked,

"Got a mirror?"

. . . .

Well, he's as funny as ever...

With a sigh, she moved over to him, chastising, "You can't reach all that on your own. Here," Shepard plucked the medi-gel from the crate, popping open the cover with practiced ease. Spreading a generous amount of the viscous jelly, his back stiffened for a moment, but he gave no indication of pain, relief or otherwise, stating only,

"It's not as bad as it looks, I'm sure."

Minutes passed, as the Commander carefully layered on the Sirta Foundation's miracle creation onto the rough, angry red burns and freshly opened scars across his back. It surprised her that the injuries weren't worse... But these would definately scar, alright. His armorsuit's auto-repair must be extremely advanced, or its defensive capabilities far beyond her expectations.

Shepard couldn't help feeling the hard, steel cord-like muscles that rippled under her touch, and she had to fight back the mental images that crossed her mind as she worked.

'_Damnit, bad libido!_'

"How's that?" She asked, mostly to distract herself, to which he responded,

"Much better... Thanks."

There was a silence, as she voiced her ulterior motives for searching him out.

"Why... Why did you do it?" It took discipline to keep her voice even, as the one thing that had been bothering her the entire trip surfaced.

"And what would 'it' be, Shepard?"

She scowled, irritated by his diversion of her questions again. "You know damn well what I mean. You knew you would get hit trying to save me."

He was quiet for several moments, before finally saying, "...I do not know the reason, Shepard. I cannot answer that."

That's... As much of an answer as she could expect to get out of him on the subject.

"Don't ever throw your life away, Blade. Not for anything. You hear me?"

Though his tone never changed... Shepard could've sworn there was something different in his voice when he replied. "I hear and obey, Shepard."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

A day had passed, in which Shepard made a stop in a nearby system for a groundside op of some sort, taking Jacob and Zaeed with her for. Something about finding a missing ship... Eh.

I wound up stuck aboard the Normandy, bored out of my skull. Had a nice chat with our new Quarian crewmate, though.

_**Flashback...**_

_"So..." She began, trailing off as she properly worded her statement/question._

_"Yes?" I responded, still fiddling with this damned thermal conduit. Thing's a bitch to fix... Ken was right about this POS, it's twitchy as all hell._

_"How does it feel, being the only person who can fluster the Commander?"_

_...? _

_Da fuck?_

_I blinked, pausing. "I haven't the faintest idea of what you're getting at." _

_The Quarian sighed, shifting to get more comfortable in the tight duct. "Keelah, you're even more dense than Garrus... You do know how she feels, right?"_

_I shrugged as best I could in these tight spaces. "Not a clue. I'm not a people person." But I've got an inkling as to how a sardine feels, right about now._

_She sighed once more, starting to sound like a schoolgirl. No big surprise, she couldn't have been a day over twenty. Well, judging by her voice and mannerisms, anyway. I dunno just how Quarians age. "I guess all men are thick-headed, no matter their species."_

_...?_

_Hey, I take offense to that. I may be pigheaded, but I'd like to think I'm better than most, damnit. But before I could make a witty retort,_

_"Hey, are you two done yet? You've been down there an awful long while...*Whap!* Ow!" Scotty's voice came over the radio, quickly followed by hand-on-cheek at high velocity._

_"Quit making vulgar insinuations, Ken. There isn't even enough room in there for that!" Gabby scolded, sounding rather annoyed._

_"Oh? Well, why don't we go and test that theory?" He shot back, drawing a surprising reply._

_"W-wait, what're you suggesting?!" She stuttered, and I could imagine the female engineer going red-faced._

_" Hah! What're you getting all worked up about? You been waiting for me to ask?" His voice practically oozed lechery._

_"SHUT UP, KENNETH! *WHAP!-Thumpk*"_

_Tali and I shared a look. "THAT, is what I meant."_

_...?_

_**End Flashback**_

*Beat*

It was entertaining, at least. I wonder if all women practice sending out mixed signals... Eh, I'll never know.

Anyway, during my time off on RNR, I wound up getting poked and prodded by the doc regardless, before I got... Reacquainted, with Miranda. That... Really didnt go over so well.

_**Flashba-**_

Waitwaitwait! Hold it right there. I am NOT reliving that little slice of hell, fuck you very much. Amusing as the end of it was, I'm irritated enough as is, and her voice is damn near at the top of the list of things I don't want to deal with right now.

(No more than one flashback per chapter)

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

It wasn't until late the next day that we reached our next destination. Shepard called several of us into the conference room, including myself, Garrus, Zaeed, Jack, Tali, and Grunt.

Shepard stood at the far end of the table, indicating the hologram. "This, is Pragia. It's a dense tropical jungle world, and our objective is an old Cerberus facility located on its surface."

A Cerberus facility, huh...

Suddenly, images, memories flashed before my very eyes, the stench of death, decay and gunpowder filling my nostrils...

_The jungle... Nine months in-country, jumping out of planes, running and gunning through that humid hellhole. Bullets flying, tracers searing blinding flashes of light into our eyes, the enemy lying in wait for us... _

_With nothing but each other, we were hunted by everything native to that land. Its people hunted us by day, whiles its natural predators stalked us by night. Our only constant companions were our rifles, and the insects that sought to eat us alive. _

Garrus' voice brought me back from the memories... If only just. "We have any intel on the facility itself?" Our resident Turian asked, glancing at Shepard.

"None. We've only got a vague idea of its location, due to advanced cloaking technology that's rebuffed our attempts to scan the surface. It's supposed to be a biotic training and research facility, but we don't have anything more solid than that."

At that, Garrus chuckled. "Reminds me of our little trip to Ilios..."

Tali shook her head. "Yeah, a little too much."

_"Get down! SNIPER!" _I swear, I could hear her voice in my head... Rachel, shouting to the rest of us, the same three words that saved all our collective hides that day, so very long ago.

I... Missed part of the conversation going on around me, until Shepard addressed me herself.

"Blade. Blade, you awake?"

That startled me, but I kept myself still. "Hm? Sorry, what is it?" Blinking, I shook off the memories, forcing myself back into the present.

Shepard smirked. "Fantasizing about me again? I asked what your take on this mission was."

I shrugged. "If it's a jungle planet, then we won't need to worry about enemy armor, and air support is effectively out of the question. This is supposed to be a Cerberus facility gone dark, yes?"

She nodded.

"Then we may require someone with experience at hacking consoles and opening locked doors. As the situation stands, I would reccommend a squad makeup of you, Garrus or Tali, Jack, and myself." Shepard quirked an eyebrow.

"There any basis for that?" I looked up, into her eyes...

She's just trying to get my attention... She's already decided on a squad, and my guess was dead-on. Hmph. "I've a wealth of experience in jungle combat, particularly in finding traps and predicting ambushes. I also have enough explosives on-hand to make a hard entry into the facility if necessary, and once inside, my specialty in CQB would be a great advantage over any resistance we might find. Garrus' skillset as a tech expert and scout-sniper makes him an obvious choice for a multi-task role for this op, with Tali as an alternative. Jack's biotics balance out the squad evenly for dealing with dug-in targets once inside the facility itself. Then possibly Zaeed or Jacob, as extra security if need be."

Just as I finished speaking, more images flashed in front of me, the stench of rot overpowering my senses, as the sound of gunfire drowned out everything...

_Crouched down on the blood-riddled muddy ground, hiding behind the tall elephant grass, I kept a hand on her shoulder, fingers inching to my partner's neck, feeling for a pulse..._

_"Eheh... And I used to be bulletproof." She quietly muttered, biting back a curse as she sucked in another breath. She was alive. _

_The coppery stench of blood was heavy in the air, saturating it like the scent of ozone during a thunderstorm. As though brought on by my thoughts, a streak of pure, bright-white light arc'd across the dark, iron-grey sky, thunder booming in the distance. It still did nothing to blot out the sound of the enemy's call-outs, nor their heavy footsteps, as they scoured the area for us._

_"How many?" Her voice brought me out of my thoughts, and as I looked down to the woman I cared for more than any other, I didn't even say a word, as she saw my expression._

_"...Too many, then. It's your call... Run, fight, or surrender." _

_I couldn't help smiling, as I shifted Rachel's bangs out of her eyes. "Do you even need to ask?"_

"...P at 0500. Until then, you three get ready." Shepard finished, as I blinked and shook away the barrage of flashbacks that assaulted my senses. The others were filing out, and I was about to follow suit, when the Commander caught my arm.

"Hey." I turned, doing a double-take as I could've sworn I was looking at Rachel. After a moment, my heart slowed back down to normal, and I found that my mind was just playing tricks on me.

"Is something wrong? You seem distracted." She asked, her clear, shining cerulean eyes-

I shook my head again, blinking away whatever hallucinations were overtaking my senses. Rachel had blue eyes, Shepard's are _green_. What the hell...

"Blade...? Blade, what's wrong?" It wasn't Shepard's voice I heard... But Rachel's.

I was about to answer, as pressure began building up beneath my temples, the start of a nasty headache. "It's... Nothing, Commander. Just need to clear my head. If you'll excuse me,"

Quickly making myself scarce, I slipped away from her grasp, ducking out of the room before she could call me back.

What the hell is going on...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I went back down to the hold, checking my omni, making sure I would be alerted fifteen minutes before the designated time that we would board the shuttle.

After that, I just...

I just plopped down on my rack, pulling off my helmet and trying to piece things together.

Shepard looks rudimentarily similar to Rachel, but... Why am I seeing her spectre in the Commander's shadow? They aren't that close in appearance.

This doesn't make any sense. Am I overthinking this, or just not getting enough sleep?

Agh, fuckit. One thing at a time... On your feet, Marine. Deal with your section 8 when you don't have peoples' lives depending on you.

"Fight, kill, win... That's all you're good at. That's all you do. Fight, kill, win." I took a breath and got to my feet, cracked my neck and checked my rifle, pistols and kit, pulling my helmet back into place as I headed for the stairs.

Just then, my alarm began to blare...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I stepped off the elevator, making my way to the shuttle. I saw the others already filing on, one in particular looking rather more subdued than usual. In fact, Jack wasn't grinning, cussing or joking at all, instead seeming to be even more distracted and out of it than I am.

But a helluva lot worse at covering it up, to boot. Huh... Wonder what's eating her ass.

I was about to step on, when someone caught my arm. glancing back, I found Shepard in full kit, staring hard into my eyes. Even knowing full well that she couldn't see my expression, it was... Difficult, not to flinch.

"Are you going to be alright for this mission?"

I gave a quick, curt nod. "Aye. You should worry more about your own welfare, rather than mine; I can be replaced. And what of Jack? Should she be accompanying us, with her current mental state?"

Somehow, I couldn't quite read the Commander's expression... Odd. "She'll be fine."

"Dustoff in five, people!" The pilot shouted, hurrying us along.

Fair enough, then.

After takeoff, I plopped down in a seat, pulling my rifle and immersing myself in stripping and checking it over. Not a second after I'd taken my seat, Shepard was in the one next to me, and I could feel her eyes on me.

Hmph... Distractions.

"How wide an area is the dead zone?"

Shepard's reply was odd. "Three mile dome. Looks to be a half-mile facility, multi-story with overgrowth covering most of it." Overgrowth? Hmph. Might make finding an LZ(Landing Zone) difficult.

"Hmph... Think we should drop just inside the DZ, then move in on foot? Would take time, but we'd maintain the element of surprise." I suggested, slapping my M8 back together. After all, it's easier to see a shuttle flying in rather than four stooges creeping through the underbrush.

The Commander stroked her chin, still watching me intently as she mulled it over. "It's an option..."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Pilot, set us down here."

"Roger that, ma'am," He responded, taking the shuttle down lower to the surface. After weaving in and out of the trees for several moments, he levelled off some ten feet above the ground, calling, "Welcome to Pragia, boys and girls. Please exit the vehicle now via the hatch located on your left-hand side, and watch that first step... It's a doozy."

Huh. Seems our pilot has a sense of humor. I hit the switch, hopping out and landing in a crouch, sweeping my rifle left and right. Nothing in sight, no movement on my scanners. I stood, shouting, "Area clear."

The others dropped down next to me, and Shepard hailed our pilot over the comm. "Fly up and hover above every landing pad of the facility for half a mike each, then clear off until we call for extraction."

"_Understood, Commander._" And he was outta there, taking off in the general direction of the Teltin compound.

Hmph... Teltin, huh?

Whatever it was, it was making Jack nervous as all hell, and that's never a good thing with biotics, or so I've found. Well, whatever. I'll deal with that later.

***Ba-DOOOOSHCKA!***

Jack jumped nearly half a foot, as lightning cracked the sky, and it started to rain...

And I mean it was just _pissing_ down on us. Really, this was juuuust great.

"Perfect timing, huh, Commander?" Garrus sniped, as he pulled on his helmet. Shepard just shook her head, not bothering. I guess since her hair was already wet, there was no point.

She shivered, then wiped her slick hair out of her face. "You said it... Blade, take point." I nodded, starting off in the direction of the Cerberus facility.

"Keep it tight; single-file, three metre intervals. Watch your sectors, eyes high and low, tree-borne predators are a menace." No one objected to my statement, so I didn't bother looking back, and kept my focus on what was ahead of me.

Trees, trees and more trees. Lots of high grass and mud, but that's to be expected. Here's hoping I don't sink too far down.

Even through the helmet's filters, I could smell it. The scent of ozone and rain, the mud, mildew, moss and rot. The stench of the jungle... It's not something I could ever forget. All that was missing was the faint, metallic undertone of blood, with heavy tendrils of gunpowder and oil.

And finally... The creeping reek of death and decay. But those two will only be found when we get closer to trouble. So onward I lead, eyes scanning, ears perked, muscles flexing, breathing shallow.

The raindrops impacted my visor, leaving streaks of water and small droplets to remind me that I'm wearing it, aside from the comfortable temperature and the fact that I'm completely dry. Outside had to be humid and hot, a classic tropical jungle. And my feet were still dry, so that's a plus.

Several minutes passed, and just as the water started to build up and distort my vision, a glowing line of some sort passed across my visor, the water vanishing from wherever it touched. Hm. Very nice, I like it; a space-age windshield wiper.

"Keep your eyes high and watch for snipers, these jungles are killzones for 'em." I pointedly said, meaning Shepard and Jack.

Pretty sure the Commander knew that I meant her.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Maybe half an hour of moving through the jungle, before I could see something in the distance, through the trees, and held up a hand as I dropped to a knee. The others did the same, Shepard moving up next to me. "What do you see?"

I touched two fingers to the side of my helmet, right where my left ear would be. A large reticle took up the majority of my visor, showing a 12X zoom. In the distance, I saw... "The facility is two hundred-forty metres to our twelve; rear entrance is lightly guarded. I see two lookouts standing guard on the rooftop just above the door; both Vorcha."

Shepard sucked in a breath. "Vorcha? The hell are they doing here... Blood Pack?"

"No. They're apart of a different faction, no mercenary group insignia. One carrying an Avenger, the other with a shotgun. Switching to thermal..." My vision was suddenly colored differently, the reticle changing slightly. "Increase magnification."

The reticle zoomed further in, and I found only those two, no unusual heat signatures inside. Something doesn't feel right about this...

"I don't know, Shepard. There are no more of them within range, at the very least. We'll have to procede with caution and assume worst-case scenario from here on out." Turning to her, I let off the haptic controls built into my helmet, and took in the Commander's soggy expression.

She wiped her hair out of her face again, an oddly endearing tic. "Alright. What are you thinking?" Strange... She's delegating this to me?

Huh. Wonder what's going through her mind, right now... As I thought that over, I noticed Shepard's hair falling back in front of her eyes, but just before she could reach up and wipe it away, I, ah, acted on instinct once more.

With all the gentle care of a tender lover,(Not by choice, but by sheer reflex, I swear) my hand moved of its own accord, carefully shifting her bangs out of her eyes, back behind her ear before she could even blink.

...Her blush was worth the perplexed look she sent me. "Eliminate the sentries and go in quietly, gathering more information on enemy strength before drawing attention to ourselves. Once we know the opposition, we'll be able to efficiently set up and engage if necessary. Otherwise, our objective remains unchanged." I stopped.

And gave Shepard a tilt-headed look. "What IS our objective, by the way?"

She shook off her blush, pushing back whatever thought had just ran through her mind as she smirked and quietly replied, "We're planting a nuke in the center of the facility."

. . .

"And... Why, are we nuking a derelict compound? If Cerberus was concerned about information control, they would have acted before now; secondly, if base destruction is a priority, why didn't we just bombard it from orbit?" I must've had one helluva funny delivery, 'cuz all I heard was a-

"Snrk-!"

I couldn't help but be puzzled when I saw that Shepard was trying oh so very hard not to laugh with this ultra-cute expression on her face, as she stared into my eyes...

Er, visor.

Oooo-kay. "...Is there something on my face?" I asked,(Deadpan, of course) and she turned away, a hand over her mouth. I'll take that as a 'no,' then. Shaking my head, I looked back, waving up the others.

Once Jack and Jill- Erm, Garrus, were up next to us, I laid out my plan. "We've got two sentries on the facility roof a quarter of a klick ahead. Garrus, with me; we move up thirty metres and get set up, then we'll drop both of 'em. Shepard, Jack, watch our backs from here."

Nods from those two, as I began stalking downhill through the underbrush, the Turian following close behind. Gotta get close enough to make a perfect shot, but far enough to make us invisible... And I'll need a place to set up our position...

Aha... There. A small slope on the hill, with a trio of large saplings and foliage for concealment. Perfect.

I gave a quick hand signal, indicating said position; Garrus returned a thumbs-up. Two minutes later and we were there, right up against the young trees.

With the utmost precision, I carefully nudged a few of the leaves out of the way, opening a narrow firing channel and I got a good look at our targets... Still clueless, milling about.

Alright, good enough.

I carefully laid down my rifle, and slowly drew the M92 from my back, checking the chamber before resting the forend against the trunk of the nearest sapling. I saw Garrus doing the same, before he removed his helmet, setting it down.

"I find it easier to aim without it," He quietly remarked, having noticed my stare. I acknowledged that with a nod, and turned back to the task at hand, taking a calming breath...

The downscope reticle came up, showing me what my rifle was 'seeing.' After giving it a moment to adjust for the humidity, windage and distance, I set the crosshairs on the right-hand Vorcha's head, and glanced at Garrus.

He gave an almost impercepitable nod, and I quietly said, "Wait for the thunder... On my mark." He got on-target, and waited for my signal, while I cast my gaze to the sky, subconsciencely keeping my rifle dead-set on that poor bastard's skull.

I waited...

Forty seconds... Seventy...

There! The briefest flash of light...!

"Two. One. Mark." He responded instantly, as did my own muscles; just as we both squeezed our respective triggers, firing within nanoseconds of one another, just as lightning cracked the sky.

And in the mere second and a half it took for the sound of thunder to roll...

***Powfuh-OOOOOOMSHCAaaaa!...***

Two slugs flew out faster than the speed of sound, impacting both Vorcha dead between the eyes; they both fell in that instant, dead. Both Vakarian and I waited the next tense twenty seconds, anxiously awaiting the sound of an alarm, gunshots, or something else untoward...

Nothing. After another thirty, I pulled back, ejecting the clip and smothering it into the muddy earth before returning the weapon to my back and picking up my M8.

Garrus picked up his helmet, holstering his Mantis in the same movement. "Nice shot," He remarked, pulling the blue armorpiece into place.

"Same goes to you, Vakarian. Let's get down there before they change out the guard." He nodded, and we both started downhill, hailing the Commander as we went.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Twenty metres past the base of the hill, and we hit another little... 'Snag.'

"Hm? Damn." I stopped, and called another halt, waving the others up.

Shepard was right on my heels. "What is it?"

"Defense grid. Fence of some sort, choked by overgrowth. Climbing is easy enough, but..." As I trailed off, looking over the large, tall, metallic structure, I figured it had to be electrified, judging by the blackened plants that were at the base of the fence.

Plus all the wiring kinda tipped me off. Anyway.

"You aren't sure if it's got power running to it... Right." As she spoke, and was about to call Garrus up, I unconsciecely switched my visor to thermal imaging, scanning the fence...

Hm... It's the same temperature as the enviornment, so there's no passive charge. Seeing as it's raining, a passive charge wouldn't be very smart, regardless. "...Shepard? I don't it's got power at the moment. Thermal signature isn't not hot enough."

_There is currently no electrical current within defense barrier; wiring and circuits have eroded past serviceability. _

Oh. Well, that's useful, thanks.

"No charge? Are you sure?"

In response, I walked up to the fence, placing a hand on its metal surface.

. . .

Nothing. I glanced back, and shrugged. The Commander was just shaking her head, moving closer as I grabbed the metal slats, and began to climb.

After I got to the top and straddled it, I looked back down to the others and offered my hand, pulling Shepard up from under her arms and setting her on the other side, making sure she'd gotten ahold of the fence before turning back to do the same for Jack.

Those two were the easy part, of course. Garrus was considerably heavier, and had a much more difficult time trying to climb the fence, which was far less accomadating to his larger fingers and toes.

"Agh, always with the climbing..." He muttered, hauling himself up before I lifted him up by the collar of his armor.

...Suffice to say, it was the first time I'd ever seen a Turian's eyes bug out of their skull, heheh.

Once he was climbing(Read; falling) down the other side, I hopped over and jumped down into a crouch, feeling-

*Puhl-Crunchk!*

...?

I glanced down, and saw that the tiling or whatever the stuff they placed over the ground inside the fence was, had cracked and shattered under my knee from the impact. Hm. That reminds me, just how much does this armor weigh...?

"I think you might want to lose a little weight," Garrus snarked, eliciting a smirk and a snicker from the other two.

Eh, no accounting for taste.

I simply stood with a shrug, moving for the nearby door; it was no more than ten feet away. We all stacked up, myself on left, Shepard just behind me, while the other two had the other side.

"Crossover entry on my go," I said, taking a breath before checking the chamber of my rifle, flicking the selector to auto, and double-checking the door. It had power, and so did the thermal masking system, so it's a safe bet to say that the lighting still works... Perhaps we could cut power to the entire base, might make things easier.

I held up a hand.

Three.

Two.

One...

"Mark!" Garrus smacked the door switch and the moment it was open a crack, I was already rushing inside, rifle at the ready, my heart pounding.

Right, front, center, high, low, left. Clear.

I gave the room a full sweep, moving forward and checking behind the single crate inside. "Room clear, no movement."

Just as Jack stepped inside, I saw her shiver... What's wrong with her? She didn't get sick from being out in that storm, I hope.

Well, whatever. "VI, expand to one-fifty."

My motion tracker shifted to the center of my visor, scanning the area.

Hm? Nine unknowns... Wait, scratch that. Seven Vorcha, two unknowns.

Damn. "Contacts! Squad, keep an eye out for tripwires and motion sensors... We definately aren't alone."

Shepard looked my way, a serious look in her normally-jovial, happy-go-lucky(halfway seductive) features. "How many?"

"Seven hostiles, two unknowns." Just as I spoke, I saw the two unknown, closest blips begin moving towards us...

_**Fast**_.

"...And those unknowns are headed our way. Prepare for contact."

And so, the four of us set in for a fight, myself positioned just around the corner from the door they'd be coming through...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Before anyone asks, baseline functionality for combat applications is 16%, enough to stumble to cover and hold a gun steady long enough to pull a trigger. Anything below is critical condition, at the point where you've probably lost one limb or more and are quite content to just bleed out quietly.**_

_**Also, can you find the book reference in this chapter? I can't bloody remember the title of the book, so if you notice it and know, please share! It was a really good book, damnit. Also, there is a Last Days of Foxhound shout-out, to anyone who enjoys that funny-ass little webcomic. Highly reccommend looking it over.**_

_**There is also a reference to the video game Star Wars: Republic Commandos, if you're keen enough to notice. That was a friggin' AWESOME game way back when. Only wish they'd made a sequal, damnit.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Nothing re-wires a human being more efficiently than pain, fear, and especially, trauma." **_**-Unknown**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Commander Shepard; inspired by Captain James T. Kirk, of Star Trek. Where the Captain/Commander gets ALL the action, yeah.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"The mainstays of any true revolutionary are blood, sweat, and hope." **_**-Unknown**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"There are three precious metals in this world; gold, silver, and lead." **_**-Unknown**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_"_**If violent crime is to be curbed, it is only the intended victim who can do it. The felon does not fear the police, and he fears neither judge nor jury. Therefore what he must be taught to fear is his victim." **-_**Jeff Cooper. Very true.**_


	15. Chapter 15 Fate's New Chewtoy

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**So it seems our hero is becoming fate's chewtoy in this particularly sadistic chapter.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#15 _**Welcome to the Jungle, Baby**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Contact in five. Four. Three. Two..." As he trailed off, tensing up, Shepard could've sworn she saw another flash of light behind his visor, as she braced herself against the solitary crate in the room.

**[Cue Music; Ten Speed(Of God's Blood and Burial), by Coheed and Cambria; Album, Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV Volume 1. Long-ass album title. REALLY good song, though, right up there with Gunslingers & Gravemakers, same band/album]**

And try as she might, the Commander could never keep the Spartan out of her mind. It was vexing, almost, the way he seemed to be in complete control of any given situation.(Though she had to admit, it reminded her of herself) Shepard even found herself complying with nearly any suggestion he made, his voice compelling her even without emotion.

Which was another point that piqued her interest; when did he become so cold...? Now there was rarely any sign of feeling in anything he said... Wait. There was the once, back on the Normandy.

He had the same caring warmth as before, closer to that of a lover than anything else, but... Immediately after, he'd become as indifferent as he is now, with no apparent explanation. Why is he-

"Varren!" Several gunshots and a shout brought her back to reality, and in the space of an eyeblink, she was Commander Shepard once more; badass soldier, Hero of the Citadel, the galaxy's only hope.(Said so right in the job description)

Blade was on his back, a varren's jaws clamped around his arm, a second one being held in the air by Jack's biotics.

***Splur-CRUNCHK!***

...For a second, before it was litterally crushed to death. Owch.

Not even a moment later-

*_Wuh-Sching__**Klurtschk!**_* And Blade had stabbed the carnivorous pest through the skull with an omni-blade, kicking it off and standing. After picking his rifle back up, he examined his gauntlet,(The paint was scratched; that varren would be needing a dentist, if it were still breathing) asking, "Varren?"

"Galactic pest. They're originally from Tuchanka, and they eat _everything,_ from plants and animals to people and machinery. Teeth that can shred ablative ceramic and pierce jovian steel, with tough hide and skulls that are nearly bulletproof. Not to mention, they can adapt to survive in any climate, so they're impossible to get rid of. Unsurprisingly, they're favored as pets by Krogan, and used like attack dogs by the Blood Pack." Garrus explained all that, while Shepard moved to the door they'd come through, checking down the hallway.

"Hmph. That explains why the one survived a burst through the forehead..." Blade simply shook his head and moved, taking his position just ahead of Shepard, the others falling into step behind him.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Forward area clear. Seven contacts within niner-zero metres to our Southeast; all Vorcha, all hostile. Multiple stories... Three up high, four on the ground floor." Blade rattled off as he lead the way, still checking each and every nook and cranny along our route. He's a fine pointman to have around, she had to admit; nothing slipped past him. To be honest, he reminded her of some of the other N7 troopers she'd spent time working and training with, including the personality deficiencies.(Professional soldiers may be like robots on the battlefield, but off it, they're some real characters)

Well, if nothing else, he's very thorough. Shepard wasn't worried about any nasty surprizes with him along; he's like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out trouble.

He suddenly stopped just ahead, arm held out, and the Spectre nearly barreled into him.(She bounced off his hand) "Blade? What is it?"

The Spartan was silent for several seconds, eyes scanning the room. "No movement, nothing on thermal, HDMPI is clean; all scanners are green, but... This doesn't fit right. Something's coming." What? How does he know? And what does he mean, something's... Coming?

We were standing in the entryway of a large hallway, several of the floor panels broken open and pushed up by the fauna and roots that ran under the base.

His helmet slowly turned from left to right, scanning the room... Whatever it is, it has him spooked. Or, rather, concerned; most likely for Shepard's safety, rather than his own. Whether he intended to or not, he has made it abundantly clear that he could care less if he dies, so long as the Commander survives.

"Hold here, I'm going ahead." And he stepped through, eyes scanning, rifle at the ready. For some reason, this seemed odd... She didn't see anything out of place, or even remotely strange.

_'But if it has him worried, then this was a worthwhile delay_,_'_ Shepard thought, shaking her head as she looked back towards the way they had just come through.

Garrus sidled up closer to her, tossing a casual glance towards Blade. "So, what do you think it is?"

She shook her head. "Don't know. It has him worried, so keep your guard up. Whatever _it_ is, it probably isn't selling girlscout cookies."

"Hmph. Fair enough, Shepard."

Several more minutes passed, as the Spartan in question slowly and thoroughly clecked the hall, going from end to end, before kneeling and taking a closer look at something.

_"_Scorch marks..." He muttered to himself, his voice carrying all the way down the hall, reaching the rest of the squad. He'd made it to the end, and just as Shepard stepped through, calling, "What? Scorch marks?"

He spun, jumping to his feet. "OUT! NOW!" And began sprinting flat-out towards them, as a *_Whirring_* sound got Shepard's attention.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**[Music Change: Nobody, by Skindred; Album, Babylon]**

He was there in an instant, and all she felt was a heavy hand on her chest, shoving the Commander a good ten feet back, colliding with Garrus and bowling the Turian over. In the second it took her to look back up, all she could see was a wall of pure blue light; a mass effect field.

A moment later, she saw why he had shoved Shepard out of the way; he was trapped on the other side.

*Thumpk!* ...Sans his left arm, which just fell to the floor at Shepard's feet.

"BLADE!" She screamed, jumping up, about to-

"**STAY BACK! WARP FIELD!**" He shouted, jumping back away from said field, his left arm severed just above the elbow, black smoke drifting off of the stump. His entire armor was glowing bright, blood red, a stark contrast to the cold, eerie blue wall of light.

Shepard was about to order Garrus to stop the security system, but he was already moving. "I'm on it, Shepard!" He dashed to the side panel next to the door, ripping it off and splicing into the system.

"Shit! I don't remember them having this!" Jack was panicking, edgily looking back down the hallway we'd come through.

Suddenly, on the other side of the hall Blade was in, a second field appeared; then both it and the closer one began moving towards the center of the room.

"Oh god... Blade get out of there!" He had turned, saw the other field, and in an instant, quickly looked around the room before dashing for the middle.

Seconds ticked by, Shepard worriedly watching, unable to look away. "Garrus!"

"I'm working as fast as I can, this system is harder to crack than a Krogan's head." So all we can do is pray while we shit? Damnit!

And as the warp fields got closer and closer to killing the trapped soldier, he looked back and forth, before his gaze settled on Shepard...

Time seemed to stand still as their eyes locked, and she could swear that she could read his mind. "No..."

Muscles numb, her voice lost, all she could do was mouth the word 'Live'

...And in the precious seconds before he was killed, he spoke. "**I hear and obey, Shepard.**"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

All I felt was a searing, burning pain like nothing I had ever imagined, racing from my shoulder all the way to my elbow, everything below it having gone eerily numb; but even then, it didn't mean a damn to me. All that mattered was survival.

_**WARNING! **__IMMINENT DEATH! EVADE IMMEDIATELY!_

Damnit, that doesn't fucking help!

Calm down, can't panic. Panicking will just get you killed.

_'Come on, think!'_

Check left, check right. No escape. High? No vents. Low? Can't dig fast enough. Can't blast a hole in the wall without blowing myself up.

Are there any visible emitters that I can destroy?

None. Just a solid wall of light... One that will disintigrate anything it touches.

"I'm working as fast as I can, this system is harder to crack than a Krogan's head!" Garrus shouted, still working on trying to stop the security system.

Damnit... No way out. This is just a grave.

_'My grave...'_

I turned back, finding my gaze drawn to Shepard, and hers to mine. '_I'm going to die here, aren't I..._'

"No..." She said, her voice barely a whisper, but just then...

All I could see, was her lips forming one simple word: Live.

_'Live...'_

_**LIVE!**_

**[Music Change: You Can't Stop It, by Skindred; Album, Shark Bites and Dog Fights]**

My eyes shot wide, as one single thought drowned out all others.

'_I have to live!_'

And as my vision greyed out once more, all I could think of, was how to get back to Shepard's side. "**I hear and obey, Shepard.**"

_I reached back for a parcel of C12, my knees bending to jump, before my hand slammed the device against the ceiling, hitting the number 3 key. And as I hit the floor, curling up to protect myself from the shrapnel, I swear I could hear her voice, calling me, beckoning me..._

_The very moment I felt the force of the explosion, I jumped up, through the flames and into darkness._

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard couldn't see anything through the smoke from the explosion, but she knew.

He was alive. There was no way he would go through the trouble, and screw up. He had to be alive, he had to.

Several tense moments passed, before there was a-

*Thumpk!-Thumpk!-**WHUMPK!*** Right above their heads.

...All three of them wisely stepped out of the way, getting well clear of the area when a large section of the ceiling caved in, a glowing, red shape dropping down.

Blade stood from where he'd landed, looking completely intact, aside from the missing arm and several new scorch marks/scrapes in the paint job of his armor.

"Shit! How the hell did you survive that?!" Jack exclaimed, jaw hanging.

Garrus simply shook his head, amazed. "And I thought Wrex was hard to kill."

Shepard was next to the Spartan instantly, looking him over,(Almost) panickedly asking, "Are you okay? Blade?" Surprisingly, her voice was even, though she felt anything but.

"I'm fine." The lights on his armor began dimming, his voice having returned to normal.(As normal as it had been lately)

Before doing anything else, he picked up his rifle(Which he'd somehow thrown when he pushed Shepard through, so it was intact) and placed it on his back, before retrieving his arm and looking it over.

The severed limb looked fine, aside from the severely burned(Blackened) stump; Blade just shook his head and stuck it on the end of his arm.

. . .

And amazingly, it stayed there, the undersuit weaving itself back together; though neither the fingers nor the arm itself ever moved.(All three of us had just stared at him in disbelief, until we saw it wasn't falling back off)

It was... Disturbing, seeing him act as if the injury was nothing to worry about. Shaking her head, Shepard said, "Garrus, hail the shuttle."

The Turian was just about to do so, when Blade intervened. "No. The mission takes priority." He drew his M6, and began moving back down the hallway, backtracking through the way we came.

WHAT?!

"What?! You lose your arm and you want to continue?!" The Commander grabbed his shoulder, making him stop dead in his tracks.

Shepard was shocked, as this was the first time she'd ever seen someone want to finish an op after losing a _limb._ People may say that the N7 are like this, but any normal person would be in shock after such trauma.

He glanced down at the limp appendage and shrugged. "It's only a flesh wound; I've had worse." He , completely. Fucking. Deadpan.

Shepard's eyes narrowed, as she adopted a sardonic expression and suppressed the urge to groan. "You're getting on that shuttle."

"I am able to continue, Shepard; combat effectiveness is at 74%. My injuries can wait until our objective has been completed." He spoke mechanically, still without emotion; though this time, it was also without inflection, like a recording.

She was starting to get annoyed by him acting as though he's invincible. "You're not. You're not fit for duty until you get that looked at-"

"**I'm fine, Shepard! **Now let's get this over with." He snapped, and Shepard froze in place as he shrugged off her grip, the demonic-sounding growl of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

_'What... What the hell just happened? Is he even... Human?'_

Garrus looked between the two of them, before shaking his head with a sigh. "And I thought you were crazy..." He remarked to Jack, who nodded numbly.

...Before turning to glare at him. "Hey!"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"This is where the others were kept... I remember running through here, killing everyone who got in my way..." Jack murmurred, halfway sounding like a scared child.

It was disturbing, Shepard would later admit, but at the time, it wasn't something she noticed. Her thoughts were occupied by the injured Spartan that was still on point, with only one functioning arm.

"They kept children _here_? Animals...!" Garrus growled, having seen the tiny rooms.

*_Grrr... Oaaagggghhh!_* Suddenly, a deeper, louder growling came from ahead of us, as two varren stalked out of the dorms on the far end of the hall.

***Po-Powfuhl!***

...Both dropped to the floor as a pair of gunshots rang out, each carnivore with a single hole in the dead center of its forehead. Blade's arm was extended, steam floating out of the muzzle of his sidearm.

_'Even when limited to one arm, he's still a valid threat.'_ Shepard noted, eyes widening when he turned his head to look at her.

There was another flash of light behind his visor, as he jerked(Not quite; kinda like a quick nod to the side, meant to indicate a direction. I don't know a better way to describe it) his head towards the door, indicating that we should keep moving.

"Let's go." His voice was still hollow... Almost as bad as when those lights start glowing. Either he was in severe pain, or there was something seriously wrong.

'_But I have no fucking clue what the light behind his visor means... I hope he'll be alright._' Though she was concerned for the welfare of all her squadmates, she couldn't explain why Blade in particular meant so much to her.

THAT disturbed her even more than the Sovereign-esque voice.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The four of them stacked up on the door, Blade quietly informing them of what was inside. "Four Krogan, eight Vorcha; they're aware of our presence and are waiting for us. the room has generous placement of cover, but the enemy is dug in. In the final room is a single human, likely a noncombatant or prisoner. On your go, Shepard."

Though she was still anxious, she had to admit, he was as professional as ever; with a single arm, he'd managed to prove himself to still be as effective as Garrus in combat, even when relying on his M6.

With extreme precision, he would place singular A-box killshots, moving fast enough to confuse the enemy as he got closer and closer, until he was right on top of them, where he would engage them in hand-to-hand.

Well... He would, with those who lived long enough for him to reach them. But the strangest thing she had noticed the entire time, was that his armor would begin glowing just before the start of combat, and he would move lightning-quick, killing as many enemies as quickly as he could, before the lights faded out. Right after, Shepard could've sworn she heard him breathing heavily, almost panting, but she could never be sure.

And also... He moved less like a soldier, and more like some kind of wild animal, dropping close to the floor, almost on all fours, bounding over and around obstacles, using speed, momentum and his own weight to bowl over hostiles that he got close to.

But still. If nothing else it was effective, extremely so. The psychological effect had to be tremendous for it to scare Vorcha. Even so-

"Shepard." His voice brought her back to reality, blinking, she nodded.

Garrus struck the door controls, but as Shepard stepped forward, Blade yanked her back, before he tossed something into the room.

The hell?

...

***Ba-DOOOOSHCKAaaa!...*** The entire building shook, as an explosion ripped through the place.

Oh. C12, right.

Well, that's a... Creative, use of high explosives.

Ahem.

We all rushed inside, finding the room to be a great big mess; the walls were coated in orange blood, several patches of it lighter or darker, based on who was closest to the bomb, and where they were in the room.

There wasn't a single Vorcha to be found, and on the far side of the room, of the four Krogan that were inside, only one was still breathing, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, with more than half his body vaporized.

Judging by the destruction...

Blade had turned down the blast limiters, and intended for it to disorganize and disorient the enemy, but had underestimated how effective it would be. Wonderful.

He was in no rush, as he approached the dying Krogan; Blade never said a word, just walked over, aimed his gun, and-

***Powfuhl!*** And put him out of his misery, before turning to the other door in the room.

Jack was staring at him in awe, almost, as the big man calmly approached the door and didn't even bother using the console.

He just kicked the thing, sending the Melorian steel hatch flying off its tracks and into the next room, completely caved in.

Seeing this, Garrus turned to Shepard. "I take it he's rather impatient?"

"More like irritated... Can't really blame him."

Her old friend shook his head. "Definitely can't. You okay, Shepard? You're a little out of it."

She nodded numbly. "I know... I'm worried about him. Something's not right, and I don't mean the arm."

"I've been thinking the same thing. If not for him being as good a killing machine as ever, I'd say pull him off combat duty. But messed up or not, he's damned reliable, if nothing else. Here's hoping he'll be alright." After a moment, the Turian sighed, and started off. "C'mon, before those two kill that other poor bastard in here."

The two of them followed after the psychotic and Spartan in companionable silence.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Back to Blade's point of view...**

I finally opened my eyes again, and found myself on the shuttle.

"Ngh..." Pure, blinding, unbearable pain blossomed from my arm all the way up through my upper back, but it was nothing compared to the ungodly agony that had made its home in my chest, as though my heart was being torn apart, with my lungs burning.

What the hell happened...? I remember everything up to Shepard telling me I'm not fit for duty, but after that... It's all blank. I'm uninjured, my armor intact, and none of the others looked wounded or even remotely pained. Jack was flipping up the cover on a lighter of some kind, staring at it numbly.

Garrus was sitting next to Shepard, both of them across from the skinheaded biotic; he was fiddling with his rifle, having added another few kill marks to it. And Shepard?

She was inconspicuously staring at me from the corner of her eye, looking away anytime I seemed to be looking in her direction. I wasn't sure why she was avoiding my gaze, but it didn't much matter.

On my visor, appeared the words,

_Now administering painkillers, increasing antiseptic dosage. Reccommend you seek immediate medical attention, Operator._

A soothing numbness set in, my arm no longer hurting, and the spike in my chest was reduced to a dull, throbbing ache in mere moments.

Man, that's good stuff. A few more minutes passed, before Jack took a deep breath, and flicked that lighter once more, and pressed what looked to be a red button under it-

Shepard sat up, and banged a fist against the door to the cockpit, just as the entire shuttle began to rock back and forth, with severe turbulance, with what sounded like thunder rolling in the distance.

Ah... That nuke, right.

Well, that's that, then.

And as I sat back, focusing on nothing but my breathing, and the sound of my heartbeat, I felt my eyelids growing heavy, as fatigue set in...

I wasn't sure how long it took, before I finally fell asleep.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The twenty-minute flight from the ground all the way back to the Normandy was anything but relaxing for Commander Shepard, so she was more than happy when it landed within the cargo bay.

She stood, anxious to get her Spartan soldier to medical even if she had to drag him, but was surprised when he didn't immediately jump to his feet when they landed.

No... He shifted just a little with the jarring of the landing, but other than that, he remained entirely still. Jack was already out the door, Garrus close behind, when Shepard moved over to Blade, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Blade. Hey, c'mon, we're here."

...

He didn't react in the slightest... And when she shook him, figuring he was asleep, his entire body shifted, and-

*Tha-Thumpkank!*

Pitched forward, landing hard on the floor, entirely limp.

. . .(Wait for it...)

"Blade!" She was on her knee, flipping him over, calling, "Garrus, give me a hand!"

The Turian was already next to her, looking over the wounded man. "Is he breathing?"

After a moment...

"Yes... Thank god. Help me get him to medical." She pulled his arm around her shoulder, forcing herself to her feet. It was far more difficult than she'd expected; he weighed at least five hundred pounds, minimum.

Garrus got under his other arm, taking care to grab under the side Shepard was on, to keep from pulling off his severed arm by mistake.

"Spirits, he weighs a ton... He really does need to lose a few kilos."

Shepard smirked, chuckling despite the situation. It must've been a defence mechanism, she figured. "Or a few dozen," She joked, as they carried the Spartan to the elevator, forcing the decon team to do their job on the move.(They hated that, they really did)

Halfway across the cargo bay, maybe thirty or forty feet from the elevator doors, Blade stirred.

"Augh..." He groaned, and shook his head, before noticing that he was moving. "Huh...? The Normandy... Oy. You can put me down, now."

Though she would have preferred to get him to Chakwas before setting the man on his feet, her aching, screaming muscles forced her to comply, with Garrus eagerly doing the same.

He swayed on his feet for a moment, but shook his head again, clearing whatever cobwebs had built up. "Ugh... Suit's painkillers are too effective." He muttered, and began moving, albeit far more slowly than usual,(with a slight limp, even) towards the elevator.

Seeing the way he was moving, Shepard instinctively moved up next to him, taking an arm over her shoulder again on impulse. "C'mon, don't push yourself, just lean on me."

He didn't do as she instructed, but he didn't try to push her off, either. Shepard wagered a guess that meant he acknowledged that he needed help, at least.

On the elevator, Shepard noticed that Garrus had hung back for some reason, leaving the two of them to take it up to deck 3 on their own.

...He was up to something, she just knew it. But she had no idea what, nor any way to find out, so she let it go.

Anyway. The elevator rose up, and the longer she stood near him, the more Shepard noticed his breathing; it was heavy, labored, even. Definitely pained, almost as though he were out of breath, or had a punctured lung.

Damnit. She would mention that to Chakwas before she left, just to be sure.

And not to mention... She could feel Blade's heartbeat, and it just felt... Off. She couldn't describe it, but there was something wrong. "You okay?" The Spectre asked, as she looked into his visor, almost expecting to see him grimacing.

"I don't know anymore, Shepard." He sounded different than usual, tired or exhausted, even.

The doors opened, and they moved, heading left around the elevator shaft towards the infirmary. Several crewmen were at chow, and noticed the duo; all conversation stopped, and not one of them said a single word until the door to medical had closed once more.

Hearing the door, Chakwas turned, and her eyes widened at the sight.

"Doctor, he needs help." The older woman was already on her feet, directing them to the nearest bed.

"Lay him down, and be careful. What happened?" The moment Blade was on the bed, not even laying flat, the doc was already scanning him with her omni.

"He got caught in a Cerberus security system, some kind of warp fields. His left arm was..." Shepard didn't get to finish, as the Spartan pulled off the appendage effortlessly, the undersuit unweaving itself when he did so.

The medical officer sucked in a sharp breath, before calming herself and examining the damage, forcing the man to fully lay on his back. "This is... Damn. I don't think this can be reattached, even with regenerative treatment..."

Shepard was shaking her head morosely, but said, "I think there's something wrong with his heart, and he may have a punctured lung, as well. He has an irregular heartbeat, and labored breathing."

Chakwas looked up, giving Shepard a sardonic stare. "Just what the hell hit him, then? There's no external damage to the armor, and it would take a hell of a lot to inflict that kind of injury on him." Shepard splayed her hands helplessly.

"I don't know. Please, do what you can for him, doctor."

Sighing, Chakwas turned back to Blade, activating the high density medical scanner, trying to diagnose what might be wrong with him.

Several tense minutes passed, before she got the results. "What in god's name..."

"What? What's wrong?" Now Shepard was really panicking. Anything that could get a reaction like that out of the doc was definitely not good.

"How is he... Just how is he still alive...? His heart has been nearly tearing itself apart, working more than fifteen times the maximum rate it should've. One of his lungs has a slight tear, from overexertion, I think, and he has several torn muscles and ligaments. Those I can work with, but other than applying sedatives, there isn't much I can do for his heart. Judging from the images, the nanites in his body are already fixing his lung, so that won't cause problems. Other than all of that, there's his arm to deal with..." She was shaking her head, already speeding through procedures, running trials on various treatments.

Shepard swallowed, and asked the question she almost didn't want the answer to. "Will he be alright?"

"That depends on him. He'll live, certainly, but whether or not he can return to combat depends on his recovery. For any normal person, I'd estimate at least two months of rest before they would be fit to return to normal life. Him? Two weeks, one minimum." Well, that's good...

Wait. "What about his arm? Is there anything you can do?"

Chakwas shook her head. "I'm afraid not. The only thing I can offer is prosthetics, which would take months of therapy and fine-tuning. I'm sorry Shepard, but he won't be able to accompany you into combat."

Suddenly, "I'm not dead yet." Blade sat up, sounding as emotionless as ever. "Doc, how long will it take you to attach the prosthetic?"

His question didn't even phase the woman. "Three hours; I'll need to take precise measurements and adjust it to your nervous system, as well as regenerate the cauterized flesh. Then there's software programming, which I'll have EDI assist me with. There shouldn't be much chance of rejection, seeing as you've got cybernetics already implanted."

He nodded. "Do it."

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

It took her four hours' work, but she had done it. The process went much more smoothly than even Chakwas could have predicted, since she asked Mordin to assist her. The Salarian biologist was a great help in adjusting the artificial nervous system to Blade's own, and he even theorized that it might harmonize with the nanites in the Spartan's body.

That was unlikely, but possible. The doctor had kicked Shepard out of the room some twenty minutes into it, saying that she was making the doctor nervous, and should pass the time more productively.

Somewhere else, preferably.

When they went to actually attach the artificial joint, Blade simply removed the plating of his left arm, and rolled up the undersuit. It worked, and he made the point of saying the thing had to go under the suit anyway. The only time during the entire process where he actually allowed any semblance of reaction, was when the artificial nerve endings connected to his own; several of his muscles reflexed instinctively, his body twitching for a moment, but nothing more.

_'He must have a very high pain tolerance,' _The doctor noted. From there, once the joint was in place, the lower arm was connected all at once. He didn't even flinch that time, as he was prepared for it.

It took Chakwas another two hours of work, to test that each nerve ending was functioning properly. Once she had done that, she dosed the man with an extremely large amount of sedatives and a painkiller, enough to knock Shepard out.(Which was enough to kill most people)

But Blade?

No, he just stood and walked out of the infirmary, shocking the hell out of the doctor.

Said he was hungry. Big surprise. The mess hall was empty, and he ate quickly, before Chakwas dragged him back into the infirmary, instructing him to sleep on one of the beds so she could monitor him while he slept, and watch for irregularities.

He complied, on one condition.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The door opened and Shepard stepped inside, looking relieved the moment she saw Blade was sitting up on his own.

"How did it go?"

The doctor smiled tiredly. "Far better than I'd hoped. He needs bedrest for the week, and will require half a month to get used to the arm, but then he'll be fully fit for duty. I have to be quite honest with you, Shepard, his rate of recovery is nothing short of superhuman. He reminds me of you." Shepard raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Well, I guess I've never been one to sit around in a hospital bed. How're you feeling, Blade?"

He shrugged. "Well enough. Arm feels weird, though." He was examining his new prosthetic, flexing the fingers, tensing the artificial muscles, testing the joints.

Shepard blinked. "Feels weird? It's a fake arm, you shouldn't be feeling it at all."

Again, he shrugged. "I don't know, but it's strange."

The arm in question, was silver in color, the same size as his other arm; it was a perfect fake copy of his real one, made from the strongest materials they had available. Daimond-carbide nanotubes and micro-actuators, along with spider-silk based artificial muscles. The skeletal frame was the same material as his own skeleton, and just as indestructible.

It had a predicted newton output almost equal to his own, and was an exceptionally expensive military-grade field prosthetic. While it doesn't contain any special, hidden goodies, it's a high performance model, and made to be a replacement for soldiers who've lost limbs in battle.

He looked it over for several more minutes, before he picked up the sleeve(Chakwas had removed the actual limb, for measurement and nerve testing) of his armorsuit, the vambrace already loosened.

He easily slid it over his arm like a long gloove, pulling it all the way up past the elbow, before unrolling the upper section and connecting them. It took several seconds for the undersuit to weave itself together, but after, it was seamless. The vambrace tightened itself down, as he attached the pauldron and upper arm plating, and double checked everything

After going through a quick diagnostic, he stood, rolling his shoulders. "Much better... Hm."

He seemed to be reading something on his visor; his head tilts back slightly and his head turns ever so slightly from left to right whenever he does that.

Huh. Wonder what it is this time?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Can you see the Black Lagoon reference in this action-packed chapter? How about the Code Geass shout-out? And the extremely stealthy one from Metroid Prime?**_

_**...Oh, and of course, the obligatory Monty Python Holy Grail reference.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"Some say you can tell how the world stands by the prices of AK-47s." **_**-Chit2001**_


	16. Chapter 16 UPDATED

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Is this sheer bad luck, or something... Sinister? Mwahahahahahaha**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#16 _**Dead Man Walking**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"I honestly couldn't tell you, Shepard. It isn't just the armor, or the cybernetics; it's him. The force of the explosion would've killed almost anyone else at the distance you described, but he returned mostly intact. And judging from the high density scan results, well..." The doctor shook her head, looking amazed, in awe.

"He was a dead man walking when he got on that shuttle. Between there and when he stepped onto the ship, his condition stabilized itself, somehow. He had severe internal bleeding and a number of ruptured organs; the slight tear in his lung was actually a major one that had mostly healed in the span of forty minutes. I don't want to even think about his heart or how bad it must've been in the previous hours. It doesn't matter how much money Cerberus poured into his design, NO nanotechnology is that good. If there is anything I've learned in all my years in the medical profession, you cannot synthesize it is the individual that makes all the difference in whether or not they recover well enough to return to duty. I've found you to be a perfect example of that, even." Chakwas leaned back into the couch, crossing her legs.

_'Long explanation, doc. You should've just said he was too stubborn to die. Hell, even then, _**I**_ could've told you that.'_ Shepard snarked to herself as she said,(She has a really snarky inner self. It's kindof amusing, most times)"So, you're saying it's willpower, or something?"

. . .

The doctor shrugged again. "Well, if you want to put it bluntly, yes. Although, I think a better description would be sheer pigheadedness. He's like a Krogan, doesn't know HOW to die. That said, do make sure he doesn't try to say he's well enough to go with you for a few days, at least."

Blinking, Shepard digested that hard little pill of shocking information. "Of course... You did say he would be out of commission for at least a week, right? So after that he'll be good to go?" Shepard replied drily, suppressing a groan. Blade would definitely be a stubborn ass about that. He'd even sneak onto the shuttle, she wagered.

Chakwas responded with a firm nod. "Definitely, based on his recovery rate over the past few hours; though that arm may give him trouble for much longer. I'd have him off of missions for the next half-month, as I said before. Knowing him, by then he'll have mastered gross muscle coordination, and will be able to fight fairly effectively."

The Commander was dreading the answer to her next question. "How long until he's got full use of it?" If he's unable to use one of his arms to its full abilities for more than a month, then we'll need someone else for everything from demolitions and sniping to breaching.

"I don't know... Minimum of two months, if he's determined. Eheh, but he'll probably do it in a month and a half just to prove me wrong. But until then, he's essentially restricted to using only one arm for any task that requires fine motor control. Writing, typing, eating, hacking, welding, planting explosives." The doctor stressed that last one for some very well-founded reasons.

"Well, that last one's a given. Alright, thanks for telling me, doctor. Say, why did you come up here for a follow-up right after he fell asleep? Find anything else important?"

Chakwas adoptd a wry smirk, responding, "Oh no, I just knew if he heard my actual estimate, he'd try to push himself back to work before that, and much as I enjoy his company, I'd rather not be seeing more of him than usual." A lecherous chuckle escaped her lips, as she added, "Well, that's not to say I wouldn't enjoy seeing what he's got under all that armor. Smart money says he's got a body that would make the statue of David envious."

Chuckling, the Spectre joked back, "No argument there. It's a shame they don't make Marines the way they used to, huh?"

"You said it, Commander. Shall we crack this bottle of brandy, then?"

"Definitely," Shepard affirmed with a nod, as she held up the glasses.

You know... There are times when a little girltalk goes a long way.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I awoke with a yawn, and had to suppress the urge to jump when I found a face hovering directly over my own.

"Yes, doctor?" Strangely, she wasn't at all startled by my sudden question.(Perhaps my yawn gave me away?)

"Nothing, Blade. Just a routine check." Like what, trying to see my eye color through an opaque visor? Or find out what the faceplate of my helmet tastes like?

I sat up, and rolled my shoulders on reflex, finding a slight twinge in my new left arm; a casual glance showed it was there, but still felt pretty numb. It was like... Having a limb that's asleep, without the pins and needles.

It still moved just as I wanted it to, though, so that was a plus. I gave it another looksee, flexing the fingers, rolled the joints, and tensed the muscles, finding everything to be moving as well as my real arm had. Except for the actual feel of muscles, tendons, flesh and blood, it was the exact same.

Not that the doc would buy THAT just yet, but oh well. I'll get used to it for a day or two, at least...

"Don't even think of trying to say you're well enough for combat, young man," Her voice brought me out of my internal monologue, almost as though she had read my thoughts. "You've still got some recuperating to do. Your heart may be strong, but even you aren't immortal. Five days." Her expression was that of a parent knowing they were going to lose an argument with their child, and was dreading it.

"Two. I'll drag myself out and back if I have to."

She didn't miss a beat. "Three, or I'll pull that arm right back off." Heheh, score.

"Deal." I gave her a thumbs-up so quick it looked like a reflex, with my LEFT hand, just to see her reaction.

It was subtle, but her eyes widened ever so slightly; good, she gets the message.

And up I hopped, walking out of the infirmary, wondering just what I'd do during my three days of forced RNR...

Help out the twins and our new Quarian tech, spend a little time helping Jacob in the armory, maybe play a game of cards with the crew, perhaps do a bit of cooking, or toss a few knives with Zaeed?

Always good to have options.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After a fine, refreshing meal,(Eggs and ham with enough cheese to stop up a Krogan. Made myself a nice little omelet, took up the whooooole skillet. Surprisingly enough, I found that I can cook pretty well with only one arm) and getting pestered by crewmen who tried to help since scuttlebutt about my arm had already gotten around.

Dammit Jim, I'm a soldier, not a paraplegic. I'll make my OWN eggs, missing arm be damned.

. . .

But now that I think of it, I'm going to have to use this thing for pranks, now. Heh, maybe leave it on someone's desk with ketchup spread out around the connector, hahahahahaha!

Oh, that would be hilarious.

But, before that...

I think I'll have to get back at the Cerberus cheerleader with something a bit more traditional. After our last conversation, nothing would please me more than to screw with her head.

*Beat*

Well, nothing other than screwing Shepard through a bulkhead, but, ah, ahem. That's a given.

And just to make thing that much easier, Miranda is out with Shepard and Kasumi on some kind of op today...

**An hour and a half later**

Heeheehee! Perfect! Right after they get back, oh dear, this is going to be perfect! Hahahahahahahaa!

And oddly enough, it didn't take much to convince EDI to help me out, either! This is just great. Can't wait for everyone else to see this unfold, 'cuz it's gonna be hilarious. It's just too bad I couldn't find any green, or blue, or something wackier. Heh, maybe orange for next time. Ah, well.

But still, it'll turn out pretty well. Heh, when even the AI thinks you should lighten up, you really need to relax. Hm.

Wait.

Speaking of which, I wonder if there's any X-lax on this ship...

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**[Cue Music; Far Away, by 12 Stones; Album, Potter's Field]**

After several more hours of milling about killing time, I made my way down to the hold, feeling like getting in some actual rest for the day. For once, I found Jack down there, sitting on the rack with an odd look about her.

As though she'd been drinking, or something. Couldn't tell.

She didn't even react to my presence as I plopped down in front of the workbench, pulling my helmet off and dropping it on the cluttered surface next to a disassembled M3.

"Hey... Blade."

Hm? "Yes?"

There was something, off, with her voice; I just couldn't place it. "Thanks for coming down to Pragia."

I shrugged. "It was nothing."

"But your arm-" Now that she mentioned it...

I involuntarily glanced at the appendage in question, reflexively tensing the muscles and clenching a fist, before relaxing them. Still felt weird. "I'll make do with prosthetics." I had to suppress the growling of my stomache, as my hunger suddenly reared its ugly head, the bastard.

Standing with a sigh, I picked up my helmet, moving towards the stairs as I made to pull it on, when-

"Hey, wait up."

Eh? What does she want now?

I paused, glancing back to find Jack on her feet, marching towards me, an unreadable look on her face, even for me. "Hm? What is it?"

She stopped right in front of me, but then, quick as a blink-

"Mmnph-?!" She pounced, standing on her toes as she threw her arms around the back of my neck, pressing her lips to mine, snaking her tongue into my mouth.

. . .

My OODA(Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. The decision-making process every human being has) loop just got fucked up; it is currently cleeding from the ass and crying into a pillow. After my brain caught up with what was happening, I thought, '_Duhh, what's this bitch doing?_ _Duhh, looks like she's trying to taste your tonsils there, bub._'

Da fuck?

It took some nine and a half seconds for her to finally pull back. "...What are you doing?"

The look of pure shock on her face would've been amusing any other time.(Looking back, I still laugh at her)

"C'mon, I want you." Three simple words;

I

Want

You

But coming from her, just what do they mean? "Just what is it you want from me?" I wasn't sure why, but-

She just wasn't attractive to me. It wasn't her body, her appearance, or even her personality. I just... Wasn't interested.(I later found out that I never was in the first place, physically or emotionally. Life's a bitch like that)

Those eyes... I'm not sure even she knows the answer to that question. "W-what? Come on, you know what I want." No, she doesn't; but I do. My eyes are clear, and now I see it.

I can see right through her, even through her own self-deceptions. What she truly seeks is someone that loves her, someone who would mend the hidden scars she carries. That is- It's not something I am capable of.

"But do you? What you are asking for is something I cannot give, Jack. I can't love you... You ask too much of me." Her eyes shot wide and she jumped back, recoiling as though I'd struck her. "One broken heart cannot heal another; I could only bring you pain, and I don't wish that kind of suffering on you. I'm sorry for that." I turned,

And I walked.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard finally had a chance to nail him down, the slippery bastard. He'd been bouncing from place to place, doing anything and everything BUT resting.

He was in the hold, having just went down there; the Commander figured this would be her best chance to pull him aside without drawing attention from the rest of the crew, and convince him to actually get some rest.

Chakwas had also mentioned something that disturbed the doctor; she'd seen him use his freshly-attached left arm several times, and he almost seemed to be mocking her, she thought. Shepard wouldn't put it past him.

If this was true, though, then maybe he would be able to rejoin her on missions much sooner. After that debacle with the greybox, Shepard figured she could really use a tall, hunky, handsome, _intimidating_ bodyguard around. Heh, and one who happens to be a slightly-unstable killing machine?

BONUS!

She would've killed to have had Blade instead of Miranda on her arm, prosthetic arm and all(Especially, with the fake arm) during that party. Particularly when the Commander found herself having to... Eugh, 'flirt' with that perverted son of a bitch Hock.(He was delusioned, but some of the things he said did make a certain sort of sense. The galaxy will always need people who are willing to do the dirty jobs that others can't)

Although, Blade might've-

Well, make that probab-

*Beat*

...Okay, he _definitely _would've had a less than enthusiastic reaction when the asshole's eyes, and hands, started wandering.

Or, a more than enthusiastic one, involving the painful insertion of one or more explosives into the smuggler's colon, swiftly followed by the Spartan's boot. And that's not including if he saw the things from Earth in Hock's little 'collection.'

Just how in the hell did he manage to steal the Statue of Liberty's head, anyway?

Well, that aside,

Down into the hold she ventured, searching for her wayward Spartan, when she found him.

And Jack, both looking a fair bit closer than friends, locked in a tight embrace, the convict practically dragging the soldier down with her liplock.

'_So they're still sleeping together. Well, guess I can wait awhile longer, then. Not really interested in a show, anyway. Wonder what Jacob's up to,_' Shepard thought with sardonic melancholy, as she want back up without a sound.

...All while trying her best to ignore the sharp, painful tightening that ran through her heart, that Shepard tried her best to pretend was from anything but jealousy.

'_Just indigestion,_' She (tried to) convinced herself.

Perhaps those provisions weren't really worth all those credits, after all.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"HAH! URAH!" Two more devastating swings, fast enough to turn his limbs into nothing mroe than a blur to the Commander, even from a distance. She was watching him from above once more, feeling irritated to find him training again when he should be resting.

With a sigh, Shepard entered the elevator, taking it down to the cargo bay to give him a piece of her mind.

...But promptly found herself unable to form coherent words upon getting a closer look at him; Blade was shirtless, having removed the top half of his armor, leaving his toned body on full display, along with every scar and hard knot of muscle, (including the sleek silver prosthetic arm. Shepard found herself wondering if it had a 'vibrate' setting) his entire body covered with a sheen of sweat that glistened in the-

"Shepard." He greeted with a nod, coming to a stop.

She blinked, shaking unspeakable thoughts from her mind.(Bad libido!)

"Something on your mind?"

The Commander had a hard time not rolling her eyes. "Yeah, what the hell are you doing? You're supposed to be resting."

He merely shrugged. "Didn't feel like sitting still."

Of course, Shepard couldn't hold back the groan as she adopted a sardonic expression. "You're going to get yourself killed someday like this. I want you to go and get some actual rest, before you hurt yourself."

"Very well, Shepard. On one condition." Oh, she was not going to like this.

"And what would THAT be?"

He flipped the knife in his hand, holding it out to her, hilt-first. "You any good with one of these?" She was definately not liking where this was going.

She took it reluctantly, figuring he was going to be stubborn about this anyway. "More or less. Just where are you going with this?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as he bent down, pulling the second knife from his calf. "A simple training exercise. Back in the corps, one of the ways we would relieve stress or settle disputes was in the ring; hand-to-hand or knife combat. With knives, it was no shirts, above the waist, and no lethal stirkes. First to five blood is the victor."

...Definately didn't like where this was going. "I see where you're going with this. And you're going to be stubborn unless I win?"

"Basicly. But I figure you're a fair bit better with a knife than you let on. And leave your shirt, that'd be considered an unfair advantage." Huh? Do wha-?

"What do you mean by that?"

He grinned, showing an expression despite the lack of emotion in his voice. "That'd be a bit too distracting, even for me. So? Whattaya say?" HE'S the one who has the unfair advantage here, damnit. With that body, why she didn't stand a chance! She was the one being distracted here.

. . .

_'No chance, huh... Alright, fuck it. I'll put him in his place here and now.' _

The Commander shifted into her stance, a confident smirk on her face. "Alright, I'll play along. Just don't think you'll have it easy, though."

"I'd expect nothing less than the best from you, Shepard." He took his own stance, flipping his knife underhand.

This was going to be... Difficult.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**[Cue Music; Cut Dem, by Skindred; Album, Union Black. One of my favorite songs]**

"RAH!" Another near-miss, which the Commander neatly evaded whilest returning the favor; of course, he dodged it by less than a centimetre, already taking his next swing.

If there was anything Shepard was learning from this experience, it was that he enjoyed toying with his opponent. There were times where he seemed to deliberately pull away from making contact, yet other times where he'd step right into one of her attacks to land one of his own.

She'd first thought that this would be over within minutes, but the second hour had already passed long ago. Blade was certainly a fitting name; he was the most skilled combatant Shepard had ever encountered, making the Spectre fight all-out just to land grazing hits. His skin must be like one big callous; even when she felt her knfie connect, there were still times where she didn't draw blood.

The two of them were both soaked in sweat, breathing hard, covered in cuts and bruises. Most of them from the floor, when ducking and dodging out of the way. She was quite thankful for the clothing she'd been wearing; he'd misjudged the actual distance between her shirt and skin several times, leaving neat slices without landing a hit.

...Of course, the fact that he'd managed to cut through one of her bra straps was irritating.

As it stands, the score was four to three, with him in the lead, just barely.

He was crouched down low, breathing shallow, his body eerily still; unlike the amateurs you see in the vids, he was trained, and made no unnecessary movements. Still, he did show off a little, passing the knife to his left hand to parry while grappling with his right hand, throwing Shepard a good eight feet.

After rolling back to her feet, by the time she turned around, he was already in her face, going for the final blow!

Out of sheer reflex, she ducked to the left, her weapon hand shooting straight out to counter, when-

*_Shk_!-**Pltsch!***

They both made contact.

. . .

"Ngh...! Heh... Looks like I've won, Shepard." He stated, just barely letting on that he was in the pain. She felt a slight trickling warmth down her right cheek, and noticed that he had, indeed, drew blood, if only just.

But that didn't matter at the time; all she could feel was a burning-hot sensation on her right hand, the one that held the knife. She looked down with a sinking feeling her gut, already knowing that he had completely ignored her attack to win.

Sticking out of his abdomen, just below his ribcage, was the knife, still clasped tightly in her grip. For an instant, Shepard froze, the shock setting in. But not even a moment later, she was looking back up into his eyes, forcing her panic down.

But in that state, she could only ask, "Why?"

"I won... Didn't I? Eheh... Think I'll get that rest now... Shepard..." Slowly, he'd been leaning down, his weight pushing him onto the Commander, as she pulled him down towards her, flipping him over and setting him on the floor.

"Hey, hey! C'mon, stay with me!" Her training kicking in, she dashed over to the medical kit she'd seen lying on the crate, grabbing it and rushing back over to the injured man.

He was gritting his teeth, forcing himself into a sitting position as he practically ripped out the knife, dropping it to the floor.

Shepard nearly tripped, before dropping next to him and tearing open the cask of medi-gel she'd first gotten ahold of. Blood was flowing freely from the wound, and his rough removal of the weapon wasn't helping. The Spectre didn't even look up from it until after she'd smeared on a glob of the medicine, her shaky hands not helping the process, but then saw his expression.

Now she was certain; he wasn't human. He didn't show any sign of pain, not even a hint of it, other than his face being slightly paler than usual.(Which was a surprise to her; she thought he'd be too stubborn to _allow_ himself to show even that much) He hadn't even made a sound earlier, when he practically doubled the severity of the injury.(That fucking dumbass. Shepard felt like punching him for that, but decided not to, as that would only exacerbate the entire situation)

"Thanks," He grunted, his voice still shockingly emotionless, and entirely without feeling. Jack was right; the guy was a fucking machine.(Really! He was training _again_ after screwing that nympho? What the hell, does he even know the meaning of the word REST?!)

Though she felt anything but, her voice was entirely even as she testily asked, "Why do I always wind up treating you when we've got a perfectly qualified physician?" Well, at least her snarky sense of humor kept her from sounding panicked.

Despite his wound, he shrugged, seemingly unfazed. "Dunno."

'_Because I keep hurting him..._' Shepard thought to herself, suppressing a shiver as a chill ran down her back. This was the third time he'd been injured because of her, and yet-

He never lets it show. He must have a heart of stone, to remain so steadfast.(Or steel, since she hasn't ruled out the possibility that he's really just a mech. A high-performance, ultra-sexy, very lifelike mech. Admittedly, Shepard needs to get out more. And get _off_ more)

Minutes passed, before he stopped her. "I'm good. Thank you, Shepard." He got to his feet, having retrieved his knives, moving over to the crate where he'd dropped his armor.

Her eyes narrowed. "No, you're not. You're going to medical before you do anything." She ordered, steel in her voice.

. . .

There was a tense moment where she half-expected him to brush her off, before he responded. "Understood, Shepard," His voice once again taking on that creepy, sovereign-esque monotone. Blade then began pulling on his armor piece by piece, before heading for the elevator.

The moment the doors closed, Shepard collapsed to her knees, fighting back tears. '_Another soldier... Who's going to get killed because of me. Damn it all._'

And the last thought that went through her mind as the guilt ate at her, was of the man she'd grown close to, who had died on her orders.

'_Kaiden..._'

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I stepped off the elevator, heading around and walking into the med bay, finding Chakwas sitting at her console, the same as ever. She swiveled in her seat, looking me up and down, noticing the fresh blood coating my left leg.

"I take it you're injured yourself again, and you want me to take a look at it?"

"If you wouldn't mind," I replied with a nod, removing my helmet and starting on the latches that kept my armor in place.

She sighed, standing up as she exited out of whatever she'd been doing. Solitaire, I think. Or maybe minesweeper.

Anyway.

After removing the upper half of my suit, the doctor gasped when she saw my newest, ah, boo-boo. It didn't even itch, I swear.

Then again, most of my left side is feeling kinda numb, and thaaat's not a good sign.

"Good heavens! What the hell did that?!"

I shrugged, deadpanning, "Tripped, fell on my knife."

. . .

"You don't honestly expect me to actually believe that, I hope."

One humorless chuckle later, "No, but I'd prefer if you didn't pry. Accidents happen."

She looked dubious as she indicated that I should lay down on the bunk, poking at the wound, despite my ever-so-slight flinching when she did so.(Hey, it fuckin' hurt) "Yes, well, 'accidents' don't involve stabbing someone like this. Just what idiot yanked the weapon out when it's got a serrated backedge?"

I negected to answer that question.(I plead the fifth!)

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After the doc had finished poking, prodding, and basically saying that the medi-gel was all that was needed with my armorsuit, she sent me on my way, threatening to tie me to a bed if I didn't get some actual rest.

Eheh, so I went down to the hold, finding Jack asleep on the rack, so I was about to kick back in the chair when I noticed a moving blip on my motion sensor, and heard footsteps on the stairs.

Glancing back, I saw Shepard coming down, having changed her clothes into something that didn't have a bunch of holes and gashes in it.

...But she still hadn't tended to the cuts on her own body, some of which were still bleeding. That was more than a little disturbing.

"Shepard," I quietly greeted with a nod, before saying, "Shouldn't you tend to your own injuries?"

"I'm fine," She brushed my query off, before asking, "How are you holding up?"

I shrugged. "The medi-gel was all that was needed. It'll be fully healed before 1200 tomorrow. Is there something wrong, Shepard?" Her body language was a little... Off.

There was definately something wrong, no matter what she might say. "...No. Just wanted to make sure you were alright." She turned on her heel with that uncertain look in her eyes, walking away.

...?

What's up with her?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

The next day, our ship was docking with another, larger one that was apart of some kinda fleet. Migrant Fleet, I think it was called.

Anyway, Tali had been panicking and freaking out about something ever since last night, and today, we went to get that taken care of. Unfortunately, I'm still stuck onboard the Normandy for my forced RNR.

Damnit.

So, I had to pass the time somehow.

I was back down in the hold practicing my knifework,(Apparently, I hadn't learned my lesson) when I felt a chill run down my spine, and then heard the elevator door opening.

Chancing a glance back, I saw four crewmen stepping out, all eyes on me as I moved through my routine. Huh.

After finishing the set, I stopped, turning to the assembled entourage. "Yes? What is it?"

The four of them seemed to shrink to half their size, the bravest one actually speaking. "Uh, nothing, we just wanted to watch you work, and learn something about old-school CQB."

...Do wha? Did I just hear that these dorks want to learn hand-to-hand? Did I hear that right?

"You want to learn? Alright, exactly what is it you want to learn to do?"

They looked at one another. "Uh, to fight?"

I shook my head. "That's not something I teach. You already have the wrong mindset to be a soldier. Didn't you all recieve training before being deployed to this ship, anyway?"

One of them shrugged, offering, "Only basic marksmanship, but no real self-defense. We're civillian contractors that the Illusive Man picked because we're good at what we do. Only the security personnel have any real training, and most of them don't have the spare time to help out."

Huh.

"Alright, I getcha. The first thing you need to know is what your true goal is in a fight. You, answer." I picked out the mousy-looking one on the left.

"Uh, to win?" He ventured, not really knowing what I was fishing for.

Great, idgits. "Close, no cigar. Next."

The next guy thought on it for a second. "Survival?"

"Correct. Anytime you are threatened, your primary goal is living to see another day. Self-preservation is the purpose of self-defense. It is self-explanatory." Yes, I was making a pun. "Your second priority is to stop the threat, by whatever means necessary. Whether that be incapacitating or killing depends on the situation. More often than not, in our line of work, lethal force is the most effective. If they're dead, they can't get back up and retaliate. You all understand this?"

Nods all around. "Good. Next is practical application. On any human being, there are seven places where blunt force trauma is most effective; the eyes, temples, throat, groin, kidneys, sides of each knee and the base of the skull. And despite whatever you might think, a groin hit on a female attacker is about as effective as it is on a male. If they are not a trained combatant, they _will_ drop. Boxing one's ears is also valid, and effective. Before I forget, Asari anatomy is fairly similar to that of a human, so those targets remain valid."

I paused, letting that sink in before I continued. "Now that you know your targets, you need to know the rules of engagement. There are none. If you are threatened with violence or death, and you know the threat is real, then you must take any and all actions that will prevent it from happening. There are no gentleman's rules in the fight; you do what you have to to survive. Worry about whether you looked cool or not when you're walking away. Now, on to practice... When Chakwas asks how you got hurt, tell her you asked for it. Watch carefully."

"Wait, what?" The first guy stuttered, as I grabbed him by his shirt and began the demonstration.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**I know, I know, you all expected our hero to go along and help with Tali's trial, as well as making fun of the ectomy and defranz ship names. But, I have other plans in mind, I'm afraid. **_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**And now, I have a horrible, evil, twisted, fucking SICK joke that any criminal justice major will understand and probably laugh themselves to tears over.**_

**Q: What did Jeffrey Dahmer say to Lorena Bobbitt?  
A: "You gonna eat that?"**

_**Now THAT, is fucked-up funny.**_

**Q: What do christmas trees and men with vasectomies have in common?  
A: Ornamental balls**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**And now, one of my more depraved jokes, **_

**A guy is sitting at the bar with a depressed look on his face. Another patron skoots over and asks him, "Why the long face?"**

"You see this bar, I built this bar with my own hands, but do they call me 'Bob, the bar builder'? No, they don't! You see that dock over by the lake? Well I built that with my own two hands as well, but do they call me 'Bob, the dock builder?'"

"No, I guess they don't," replies the stranger.

The depressed man then sighs, grumbling, "But you fuck one goat..." 

_**Messed up, disgusting, and completely hilarious.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"In order to drive a mule, you need either a carrot or a stick. You know what I've got? My dick in my hand. And I'm not into that 'Farmer Fred' shit, fuck you very much. If you got any better suggestions, I'd love ta hear 'em."**_** -My own. Kinda funny**_.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**"One death is a tragedy... A million is a statistic."**_** -Joeseph Stalin. Truer words have never been spoken**_


	17. INTERMISSION

**Mass Effect; The Assistant**

**Meeting Your New Best Friend**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**Yo, guys. Sorry, this isn't an actual chapter; I've been too distracted and busy to sit my ass down and write some actual dialogue. So instead, I'm posting this little intermission to keep y'all sated. **_

_**This is a preview of the first chapter of a DIFFERENT ME FIC, called "The Assistant." **_

_**It basically revolves around a character that is forced by the Alliance to search out Shepard's body and confirm her demise; what he finds? Well, she doesn't stay dead very long. And so, he gets himself involved with Cerberus and winds up getting hired by TIM to become Shepard's personal assistant. Thus, the fic name. It's similar to Soldier Testament in some ways, but very different in others. **_

_**This fic will involve much more crew interaction and drama, with less action for the first half. It also starts during ME2 and works its way into ME3, and is told from the perspective of my OC. I hope you all enjoy, and I would greatly appreciate any and all feedback on what you think about it. It contains the same sarcastic, sardonic, deadpan humor you expect from moi, with a far more(Or far less, in some ways) human main character.**_

_**If you aren't interested in reading this preview, then ignore it. Chapter seventeen will be up within the next week or so. **_

_**I hope you all enjoy. And as always, have nice day.(We love you, FPSRussia)**_

_****__**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**This story is dedicated to all those servile snarkers out there. This goes out to you, Jeeves, and you, too, Alfred.**_

_**AND, the final line in this chapter, is ENTIRELY dedicated to a friend and fellow author, HyuugaMistress94. If you are a Naruto fan, please check out her stories. That is all.**_

_**CARRY ON!**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#1, **Prologue;** _**New Orders**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"...Sir? Are you- Sure, about this?" Looking up from the papers I'd been handed, I found that I really was NOT looking forward to this.

The old man nodded. "Yes. Any objections?"

"Fuck, yes! For one, how in the hell am I supposed to-" He cut me off, the bastard.

Admiral Steven Hackett nodded. "Objection noted, request _denied_. You have your orders, and I expect you to follow them to the letter."

I blinked. "You can't be serious. This is all some kind of joke, right? There're cameras all around, I just know it."

The other man in the room shook his head. "No, this isn't a practical joke, though I wish it were. We need you to find her, at all costs. There have been... Disturbing rumors circulating, involving the Blue Suns and Cerberus. We- No, I need you to confirm it, one way or another. Find out the truth and report back, no matter the circumstances. Confirm whether or not she is, indeed, KIA."

I looked the human Councillor in the eye, asking, "And if she isn't?"

He didn't even blink. "Then make sure she _stays_ that way. We can't officially sanction Alliance presence in the Terminus systems, nor does the Council's reach extend that far. That's why we chose you; you're used to working in enemy territory, and if anyone can get this done quietly, it's you."

"...I don't have any choice in this, do I?" I drily responded, feeling extremely sardonic all of a sudden.

Both of them smiled, the smug pricks. "Now you're catching on. As of this morning, you died in a horrific shuttle crash. Terrible accident. Tragic, really. Within the month, your entire identity will be erased. Your name, registration, social, serial number, service record, origins. All of it. You will become a ghost; I trust you'll know what to do afterward."

Even as my eyes narrowed and teeth clenched, I had to say it. "And if I go rogue? I have no obligation to return, even if I do find her."

Anderson nodded. "True, but you're better than that. You aren't some rebellious child; you're a soldier, and you have a sense of duty. So long as you offer proof of her fate, it doesn't matter what you do afterward. Consider your release as payment for services rendered." The former-Admiral has definitely learned a thing or two from Udina, the sly old bastard.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms; this was really starting to piss me off. "Considering what my pay grade is supposed to be, I should've been 'released' two years ago, and you backed out of your promise to let me go SIX years ago, so you can take that crap and shove it." Fourteen fucking years of slavery has whittled my patience to its end. I'm feelin' all murdery.

"Enough, you're just wasting your breath, mutt." I glared at the grizzled Navy man, my hand instinctively brushing to where my knife should've been.

"You care to say that again, _Steve_? I didn't choose to be a goddamn dog of the military," I spat, borderline growling.

He returned my glare, with ice in his voice. "It doesn't matter if you chose it or not; it chose _you,_ and that's what you are. Don't forget that, machine."

"Up yours with an eggbeater! How 'bout I turn YOU into an inhuman abomination, you smug son of a bitch!" Only the three N7 marines standing guard kept me from diving across the room and strangling that old whoreson. It took all three just to shove me back into that chair.

"Enough!" Anderson shouted, giving Hackett a scowl. "Antagonizing him isn't why we're here. Gunny, you're the only one we can send out on this assignment; not only for the low possibility of success, but for the skillset you possess, and the simple fact that you can disappear in ways that others can't. Besides... You have reason to help us with this."

I was quiet for a time, remembering.

"Eight years ago... Hmph. Fine, I'll do it. But if any Alliance personnel come for me after the fact, I will kill them, and I won't hesitate to kill anyone else you send. I'm done being your attack dog; remember that." Even as I swore death on their heads, none of them reacted in the least. I suppose having a trio of armed guards holding guns to the person's head kinda makes them feel that I can't follow through on that threat.

Big mistake, jackasses.

Anderson's expression never changed. "Very well. The information you'll need is on the datapad, as well as a bank account with the funding you have to get started. Do not make contact with us until you have verified Shepard's condition." Hackett nodded, throwing in,

"Remember who you are, Roland, and who owns you. Now get it done, dog. Dismissed."

I stood, shrugging off the marines' grip as I picked up the item in question, turning and walking out, taking my knife back from the guard who'd confiscated it earlier. Without even looking back, I called, "I have no name, and _**no one**_ owns me." And away I went, tearing off my tags, throwing them back into the room just before the door closed. If he wants to call me a dog...

Then I'll become a wolf.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**One year, and two months later.**

I yawned loudly, suppressing the urge to go and take a nap.

"Wot'sa matter wit you? Too much time dreamin' about miz Lawson?" Kenneth teased, nudging my side.

Shrugging off the insinuation, "Nah, just didn't get much sleep last night. Or in the past week, for that matter. Too much time getting the ship prepped for her 'inspection.' Tch, bloody slave driver." Shaking my head, I found the Scottish engineer offering a sympathetic smile.

"Aye, I hear ya. I'm jus' hoping Commander Shepard isn't such a hard-arse. Heh, aye, here's hoping she's got a nice, perty soft one..." He trailed off, and I swear, he was drooling. Heh, what a pervert.(Though I admit, I'd been thinking along similar lines. Or curves, in this case)

***Whap!*** "Ow!"

"Stop fantasizing, ya pervert." Gabby had gibsmacked him, rolling her eyes. She does that anytime she catches him drooling(Litterally or metaphorically) over any woman that wasn't her. Too bad the dumbass hasn't realized that she has a thing for him. Eh, idiots.

"Yea, ya pervert," I called, purposefully shifting my voice to mocking. He covertly flipped me the bird, heheh.

Anyway.

After double-checking the console I was at, then triple-checking the drive core output, I headed out into the hall, calling, "I'm gonna take a walk for a bit. Gimme a heads-up if something breaks." Maybe hit up Joker and see how things are going topside.

Stepping out, I smothered another yawn, hitting the elevator call button. Man, am I tired, always tired. That's what I get, I suppose.

Into the elevator I went, taking it up to deck two. I glanced at my omni as I stepped out, checking the time, with only my reflexes keeping me from walking right into someone. Someone important, too.

"Ah, sorry," I said, ducking my head respectfully just before I realized who it was that I'd nearly bowled over.

"It's fine, and you are?" She was slightly taller than most of the female members of the crew, standing roughly 5'8 or maybe 5'9, with a bust that looked to be a large C-cup, possibly a D, even. At least on-par with Miranda Lawson's, to be sure. This woman had short, jet-black hair and a strikingly beautiful face, with a deep, sultry voice that seemed to crawl into your head.(Though not in an unpleasant fashion) It wasn't one you could ever forget.

Hm. Reminded me of that show Joker got me to watch with him, an old twenty-first century cartoon. What did he call it? Ghost in the Shell, I think. Aha, Major Kusanagi, that's who she reminded me of.

"My name's Roy, I'm just the crew's, ah, gofer, for lack of a better title. It's a pleasure to meet you, Commander Shepard. Welcome back to the Normandy." Though this isn't the first time we've met, somehow I doubt she'll remember me. At least, not without full armor and a rifle in my hand.

Shepard raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down. "The ship gofer, huh? I figured you were a specialist, seeing as you aren't wearing the standard uniform."

Well, that's obvious. I wasn't wearing the standard BDUs in Cerberus colors, mostly just to piss off Miranda, heheh. Secondly. "Well, that'd also be because I'm not affiliated with Cerberus."

The Commander blinked. "Not on the Illusive Man's payroll? Well, you're pretty audacious for a stowaway, then."

Heh, I like her, she has a sense of humor. "You could say that, but I think it's a bit more complicated when you get down to the details. If you'd care for a tour, I can show you some of the more interesting parts of the ship." I offerred, indicating the elevator.

Her eyebrow went up once more, coyly asking, "What, you think I can't find my way around on my own?" I can play that game too, you know.

"Oh no, I simply don't want you to get lost, ma'am. Lots of dark, twisting corridors filled to the brim with lions and tigers and bears for people and pretty Commanders to disappear into, willingly or otherwise." I teased back, smiling pleasantly. I do that rather well, I think.

"Hah! Alright, I'll humor you. Where to first?" Success!(Persuasion +12)

I nodded, turning my head to the left, indicating the door to the armory. "That over there would be the armory, maintained by both our illustrious Mr. Taylor and myself, whenever he needs a hand or when I've got nothing better to do to kill time." I glanced to the right, towards the other door. "On the other side, you'll find maintainence duct access and the research labs, though we don't have a qualified scientist on-board as of yet. Both the armory and the lab lead to the conference room, where we have a QEC for directly contacting the Illusive Man. You've seen the rest of the CIC, so, to the other decks?"

She nodded, and we both filed into the elevator. As the door closed, I swear, just outside I saw Miranda, glaring at me. Heheh, I think I've pissed her off once more. "Now, we've four destinations to choose from, but I suppose we'll start by heading down."

As the elevator lowered us down to deck three, I explained, "There are five decks total, with your personal cabin at the top, then the CIC, and directly below that is the crew quarters and main battery. Then on deck four we have engineering and the hold, as well as garbage disposal. On the very bottom is the cargo bay, where the shuttle and ventillation equipment are stored, along with the various supplies needed for extended space travel, and excess gear that won't fit anywhere else, such as Miranda's wardrobe."

The Commander slyly asked, "I don't suppose you can tell me why she insists on wearing that catsuit?"

I turned and gave her a blank stare, deadpanning, "I have years of experience as a profiler, but even I can't answer that question. I wish you luck in trying to figure that one out."

She sent me an odd look, asking, "A profiler?"

"Yes, I studied the mental thought processes of all different species, and am adept at predicting their actions based on current circumstances. A tactical forcaster, if you will. Before you ask, no, I am not a shrink, nor a spy. That's Yeoman Chambers' job, as the Illusive Man's little fly on the wall; I don't report to TIM, he just placed me on-board for some reason I've yet to discern. Not like he pays me anything, the cheap bastard." I mused, chuckling.

"Kelly's a psychologist?" Shepard parroted, blinking.

Nodding, "Uh-huh, real good at it, too. I'd keep her at arms' length, if I were you; she sends reports directly to TIM on the mental state of the crew, and that includes you."

Shaking her head, she asked, "Okay, I've gotta ask. Tim?"

"The Illusive Man. T, I, M." I grinned.

. . .

"Heh, that's not bad, actually. So, aside from helping Jacob, what else do you do?"

I shrugged, responding, "Just about anything and everything, from cooking to maintainence and shuttle piloting to assisting the doc. You name it, I can get it done. But if you're asking about my actual job description, I'm your personal assistant."

Now, she was outright staring at me. "Personal assistant? I've got a Yeoman, and now an 'assistant?' Alright, just what is it you're supposed to 'assist' me with?"

Shrugging, I fibbed, "Dunno, I wasn't given the luxury of a full briefing, just a dossier and a list of tasks. As I'm a jack of all trades with special forces training, I suppose TIM wants someone who can multi-task and float from place to place on the ship while also being able to accompany you on missions, should you have need of a sapper or a sniper." I turned to fully face the pretty(Gorgeous, to be honest) woman, lowering my voice. "Between us, I wouldn't have accepted his offer if you weren't involved, Shepard. I don't like Cerberus, and I could care less about some unfortunate colonists. You're a hero, and you've earned some back-up that doesn't have an ulterior motive; I'm here for you, Shepard. Nothing more, nothing less." Turning back towards the front of the elevator, I glanced towards the controls.

Man, this elevator's taking awhile.

"Huh. Elevator's moving rather slowly, today."

I noticed Shepard still looking at me from out of the corner of my eye.

"...Do I know you from somewhere? You seem, familiar." She asked, her expression one of curiosity. It was rather cute, actually.

"Possibly; I used to be in the Alliance, years back. S'one of the reasons I agreed, since helping a war hero save the galaxy a second time is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Something to tell the grandkids about, ya? But then again, that life was a long time ago."

Aha, the doors finally opened. "Alright, here on deck three, we have the crew quarters, restrooms, life support, stasis pods, port and starboard observation, the infirmary, the ship's main battery and, least of all, our esteemed XO's quarters." I explained all that, leading the Commander through the area, heading for medical.

"Now, before you ask me anything, I need you to get checked out by the doc. Don't want you to get sick before your first mission, ne? I do believe you're already acquainted with our medical officer, by the way." The door opened, and I turned, waiting for Shepard to enter. As she did so, I respectfully waited outside with a small smile on my face.

Heh, I suppose I'm just a big old softie, all said and done. Ah, well.

Some eightteen minutes passed, before Shepard walked out with a smile on her face, looking far more pleased than when she went in. "Enjoy your reunion, Commander?"

"Yeah, I did. Thanks." Shaking my head, I responded,

"No, no, I'm just the messenger. Although, before we check out engineering, you might want to speak with Rupert, the ship's cook." I suggested, nodding towards the mess Sergeant. Time to be an ass to even things out.

Shepard blinked, then looked between him and myself, before walking over to the old guy with a smirk, shaking her head. This is gonna take a minute; old guy loves to talk.

**Twenty-seven minutes later**

Shepard returned, and gave me a look. You know, the _look._

"Is something the matter, Shepard?" I couldn't help grinning. Really, I couldn't. I just barely kept myself from snickering.

"You, are evil."

Still grinning, here. "That's nothing, Commander. Say, did he ask about high-grade provisions? 'Cuz I garuntee you'll get sick of the food very soon, otherwise."

She drily replied, "Yes, he mentioned it. Several times. Is there anyone else I should be warned about, like him?"

I began leading back to the elevator, STILL grinning like a crazy bastard. "Well, we've got a few characters roaming around. The twins, whom you're about to meet, are a real comedy duo. Ken runs off at the mouth, spouting tech if you get him started. Then there's your old pilot, Joker. Yeah, he's an oddball, but he fits right in. And we've also got that AI; she's got a better sense of humor than Miranda, truth be told."

The Commander smirked. "I don't doubt it," She remarked, as I hit the button for deck four.

"Thank you for the compliment, Roy." Said AI spoke up, her synthetic voice echoing through the small space. Man, that thing's always listening in.

"Anytime, EDI."

After that awkward moment, "What'd you mean by twins, anyway?" Shepard asked, turning to look at me.

A ghost of a smile worked its way into my expression. Hey, even discipline has its limits. "The two engineers on-board are like siamese twins; inseperable. And if you're female, then you may find the one to be... Insufferable."

She quirked an eyebrow, replying, "That bad, huh?"

I reluctantly nodded. "He's not that bad per se, he just thinks with his penis when it comes to anything that doesn't have a console or an engine. But he is very good at his job, rest assured, rarely will you find anyone as skilled at maintaining such an advanced warship. You'll see."

"Uh-huh. We'll see," Shepard drily commented, looking back to the elevator doors as the opened.

Stepping out, I hung a left out of pure habit, going through the first door and nodding towards the stairs. "Down there you'll find the hold, which has a spare rack and a workbench if you'd like to work in seclusion. And now, may I introduce," The second hatch opened, revealing my favorite coworkers, who were currently having another of their fake squabbles.

"-Told you that that would happen, young man."

"Oh yes, mum, I'm deeply sorry for yer twisted gaiters. Shall I fetch you an articulated attenuator conduit?"

I couldn't help chuckling slightly at the running grease monkey joke between the three of us. "Engineers Kenneth 'Scotty' Donnelly, and Gabriella 'Gabby' Daniels."

The two of them turned, seeing just who had come down to visit. "Ah, welcome to engineering, Shepard. I see you've met our esteemed mister Asila, already. Just don't turn your back on him, he's a crafty one."

...Shepard took a wary step away from me, as I rolled my eyes. "Hilarious as always, mister Scott. Are you sure you didn't sign up to be a comedian?"

He blinked, then looked around, deadpanning, "Wait, you mean this ISN'T the comedy club?"

Ta-da!

"This is about the extent of their collaborative humor, ma'am. May I suggest hiring a jester? You might find that to be more entertaining." Gabby snarked, completely deadpan.

Shepard smirked. "I would, but somehow I doubt Miranda would refrain from incinerating him within the first ten minutes."

The three of us engineers looked at one another, sharing identical thoughts. "Really? Because she hasn't incinerated Roy. Yet," Scotty remarked, tacking on that unnecessary 'yet' as he sent me a meaningful look.

Glancing at my omni-tool, I was about to tactfully change the subject when Shepard did it for me. "What do you two think of the mission?"

Ken gleefully cracked his knuckles, adopting a wicked grin that only he could pull off without looking absolutely comical. He just looked 'partially' comical, while the other part looked like he'd just ripped a righteous fart in an enclosed airlock with five other people.

*Beat*

When he had control of the doors.

"We're off to kick the Collectors right in their daddy-bags! That's good enough for me."

I couldn't help chuckling again, tossing in, "That about sums it up, eh, Commander?"

She smiled that coy, mysterious smirk of hers. "So it would seem. Is there anywhere else I should get familiar with?"

Ken perked up, beaming. "Of course, Commander. Why, the most enjoyable spot on the entire ship is right down here in-" ***WHUMP!*** "Oof!" Gabby elbowed him in the gut before he could make his innuendo, drawing a smirk and a chuckle from both Shepard and myself.

"I'll stick with my current escort, thanks."

Aaaand like that, we were outta there!

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Just after we stepped out of engineering, Shepard glanced at me, remarking, "Now I see what you meant."

"Indeed. Gabby will keep him in line for the most part, so don't worry about him too much. But if he invites you to play strip poker, bear in mind that he is a former Sykillian Five champion in several of the Alliance-run tournaments." Best to warn her ahead of time, lest he get the better of our Commander and truly piss her off.

'Cuz I do NOT want to be on-board if he does.

"Anyway. Other than that, garbage disposal is through that door down there," I pointed to it. "And port storage is on the other end. As you can see," I now indicated the observation windows that overlooked deck 5. "We have quite a bit of equipment stored down below. And before you ask about the shuttle, this ship is nearly twice the mass of the Normandy SR1; escaping the atmosphere of higher-gravity worlds is difficult, so we utilize a shuttle for most ground ops."

Shepard Aha'd, before saying, "Very well. Is there anywhere else on this little tour?"

I nodded. "One final stop. Come." I lead her back to the elevator, stepping in and hitting the button for deck 1.

Up we went. "The last place you'll need to familiarize yourself with, is your personal cabin," I said, as the door opened. Out we stepped, before I entered the eight-digit combination to her cabin door.(Not like I'm going to tell YOU what it is. I have it because I am her assistant)

"Welcome to your new home, Shepard."

She let out a low whistle, looking around the room. "Nice... Uh, why is there a fishtank in here?"

I shrugged. "Not a clue. Someone up high thought you'd enjoy having a few pets. If you require the details about the room, feel free to ask EDI, as I'm not privy to the design specs." Which is a flat-out lie, but I didn't feel like getting into the specifics.

Now, the only other thing is, ah, sensitive.

TIM, you're a bastard and a half.

"Is there anything else?" She asked, turning to look at me from where she'd plopped down in front of her console.

Damnit, you just had to ask.

I shifted uncomfortably. "There is, but, ah- Well. To be frank, I wasn't entirely honest earlier; Chambers was placed here to monitor the crew, while I was assigned to ensure your physical, mental and emotional wellbeing."

She didn't seem surprised. "Meaning?"

"You could say I'm supposed to play the role of entertainer, to prevent you or anyone else from suffering from mental fatigue, should this mission last longer than the expected two months or if the crew suffers casualties." Now she was just puzzled.

"Entertainer?" She parroted, head tilted.

Nodding, "Yes, to break the monotonous routines of life about a ship that runs combat operations and suicide missions. I've several methods, but the most effective is humor; should you permit, I'd like to run a trial for the first week pending your approval, unless you object to humorous pranks?"

Oh, the look on her face was priceless. "Pranks? Okay, this I've gotta hear; what _kind_ of pranks?"

I tactfully glanced away, trying in vain to hide my smirk, completely unable to keep from snickering. "You'll see, Commander. Nothing harmful or permanent, I promise, and most certainly not anything that would interfere with the mission. All in good fun."

She looked disturbed, of course. "I get the feeling you enjoy your job just a bit too much."

"Oh, I do. But that's just one of the two things I am supposed to take care of." Now this IS rather sensitive. Damnit TIM, I hate you. I swear, I will find you, and I WILL kill you for this. Then I'll piss on your grave, ya bosh'tet.

Shepard raised an eyebrow, remarking, "Judging from your expression, this isn't something I'm going to want to hear, is it?"

I shook my head. "It isn't, but I'd rather you hear it from me than find the paperwork lying around someplace. As you well know, the rigors of combat are exceptionally stressful on the human body, particularly the mind; while there are many ways to relieve stress, there is one that has always stood at the forefront as the single most effective." Aaand, wait for it. Wait for iiiit.

She blinked, hard.(You shouldn't even have to ask what that means) "Wait, you mean- You're joking, right?"

Shaking my head, I activated my omni-tool, flicking through screens to the document in question, and transferred it to her own. She skimmed through it, before giving me a blank stare. "The Illusive Man expects you to seduce me?"

Pfft-!

"Snrk-!" I choked and coughed, trying so very hard not to laugh. "No, no, I doubt even I could do that without you noticing the deception. Besides, that isn't my style; love 'em and leave 'em just doesn't sit right with me."

Her blank stare turned into a slightly distrustful one. "Uh-huh. Then how should I take this?"

I shrugged. "As a sign that I trust you far more than I do TIM? Look, I don't know what the hell Timmy was thinking, as I was only sent this a week ago, but the offer's out there. If you ever want to take me up on that, it's up to you, but I would greatly appreciate if you would tell me beforehand whether you're looking for a stress outlet or an actual relationship."

After a moment, I glanced at my omni, checking the time. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going before this gets any more awkward, or I get strangled." I started for the door-

"Thanks for telling me, at least. I'll let you know if your 'services' are needed. Until then?" Heh, well, she's gotten over the shock already. Good.

"Until then, Commander. If you need anything, my channel's always open." I flicked a switch on my omni, sending her the comm data for my omni as I walked out, heading into the elevator.

Well. That was awkward.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**FEEL the awkward. What d'y'all think? Good, bad, butt-fuckin'-ugly, or what? **_

_**Can you find the Resident Evil 4 shout-out in there? How about the Bulletstorm one?**_

_**And, can anyone see the meaning behind the last name Asila?(Ah-see-lah. Ass-E-lah)**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_


	18. Chapter 17 Memories UPDATED

**Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier**

**Back From the Dead**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

_' '_ - Thoughts, usually in _italics, _as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

_Italics- _Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

**Bold!- **Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

_**Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Quote for this chapter;

_**"To live, is to suffer. But to survive? That is to find meaning in suffering." -Nietzsche**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#17 _**Memories**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_"You killed us... Fucking traitor. Should'a fragged you when I had the chance." Such hateful words shook me to my very core, coming from Big Masters, his body twisted and mashed into something nearly unrecognizable._

_"It's your fault," Schmitty growled, his handsome face pale, with eyes sunken and bloodshot._

_Thompson was the next to accuse me, her own once-beautiful face battered and bruised. "How could you do this to us?" _

_"My wife, my little girl! They took everything from me! All because of YOU!" Mathews screamed, blood pouring out of his empty eye sockets._

_And Royce? He was burned to little more than ash, his dead eyes staring out at me. "We trusted you- I trusted you!"_

_Both my Captain and my Lieutenant were silently glaring at me, one filled with bulletholes, the other holding his own head under his arm. But that was nothing._

_Nothing at all, compared to the last person I could see. A pitiful figure wearing torn rags, kneeling on the floor. Obviously female, covered in bleeding and infected wounds, she turned, and I was dreading what I would see._

_Rachel. She had tears streaming down her face, blood and bruises covering most of her body that I could see, dark scarlet blood pooling on the floor between her legs. Her hollow stare was enough to take the strength out of me, as I collapsed to my knees, my body numb and refusing to comply as I tried to go to her, to comfort her._

_"Why? I loved you with all my heart... You promised you would protect me! And then you betrayed me. How- How could you?" Those few words hurt more than anything I'd ever experienced, completely eclipsing the countless cuts, bruises, burns and bullets I've unflinchingly endured. _

_But just then, that expression that looked on the verge of breaking down sobbing, turned into a visge of pure hatred, an expression I'd never seen from her. "I hate you! You should have been the one to die! __**I WANT YOU TO BURN IN HELL!**__"_

_And just when I thought it might be over... The flames in her eyes spread to me, and all I could hear was her demonic howl, as the flames consumed me._

But in the space of an eyeblink, the burning agony was gone like it had never been there. However; I wasn't given a reprieve, as one nightmare faded right into the next.

_"Orders, sir?"_

_"Kill them. Kill them all."_

_I nodded and raised my weapon, taking aim at the handfull of civillians that had seen us. It was a family of five; three adults, one senior, one child. Unfortunate souls, who were simply fleeing from the area we were headed to. I didn't hesitate; none of us did, as we each pulled the trigger._

_And as gunfire rang out, there was only one of them that lived long enough to speak._

_"Daddy!" She cried, as the man in question fell to the ground, blood pouring out of his head and chest. He had suddenly stepped in front of the little girl, taking the rounds that had been intended to kill her; a loving father._

_She looked on at us in fear, with sorrow, agony and pure rage in those small, shining emerald gems, just before our squad leader gave the order. "No survivors, and no witnesses. Double-0, execute."_

_I can't claim to have had the strength to override the force behind his command. "Yes, sir." I readjusted my aim, finger settling on the trigger._

_'I'm sorry, little one... May whatever god you worship have mercy.' _

***POWFUHL!* **

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

I was startled awake, the sound of that gunshot reverberating around the inside of my skull. I hadn't even realised I'd jumped up, gun in hand, until the sound of the falling chair clanging against the floor broke me out of my trance.

Check left, check right, high-low-back-front-good-to-go. Holstering my M6, I let out a breath I hadn't noticed I'd been holding. First a nightmare, the same as the last, but then that dream-

It was just like the one where I first saw myself dropping from orbit.

Of myself, working with other Spartans. But such unfeeling cruelty... Am I capable of that?

. . .

Heh, guess I am, aren't I. If I wasn't, pretty sure I wouldn't have lived this long. The only thing I feel anymore when I kill, is recoil.

But more importantly, what was that? Just something rattling around in my subconscience, guilt over my past actions? More imprints of what I was supposed to become, a Cerberus killing machine? Or worse, was it... A memory?

I don't know the answer to that; and that's what scares me. Putting aside my own issues, I moved to the stairs, feeling the need to keep my mind occupied, and my body moving.

Up in the engine room, Tali was working on one of the consoles, both of the twins oddly absent. Figuring they were on break or finally getting some sleep, I moved over to where she was, asking, "How's the system holding up?"

"*Sniff!* It'sh doing jusht fhine." Yeesh, she sounds as bad as I feel. Bad congestion, sinuses acting up; seems alomst like the common cold.

Great, a sick alien. "Should you be up?" Quarians are frail, if I remember.

She turned, giving me an odd look.(I think) "I should be shaying dat to you. Chokwahz shaid you got shtabbed lasht night." Hm. She almost sounds like a female version of my penis-

_**OY! Fock you, ya bloody cock-blocker! I outta wring your shcrawny neck for that shtunt lasht night!**_

Well, he's still pissed. Now tuning him out.

_**Up yoursh with an eggbeater!**_

Alright tonto, one more wisecrack, and it's off to the reservations. Shut the hell up, already. Man, I'm lonely; here I am, having an internal argument with my penis.

And I'm _losing._

Getting back to the conversation with the actual person in front of me. Ahem. Shrugging, I brushed that off. "It was only a flesh wound." Eheh, not really, but she doesn't need to know that. Still stings a bit.

Just a bit. Ow.

I think she raised an eyebrow; or did the Quarian equivalent, anyway. "Oh, really? *Sniff!* Ihf I recahll, Shepard wuz looking mitherable when she pashed by to check on you. Eben more tho when she left." Huh? I don't remember her coming to check on me... Must've been after I conked out.

Heh, guess she was sulking since she didn't get a rematch. Or feeling bad about stabbing me? Heheh, I wouldn't feel bad about stabbing her with my-

Whoops, uh-oh. Better stop that line of thought before Mr. P decides to weigh in with his two cents again. Shaking my head,(Mostly to rid myself of said unspeakable thoughts of Shepard laid out on my cot, naked save for a delicious coating of warm honey she was spreading over her lovely bre- **SHUT UP ALREADY!**) I replied, "I'm glad she cares, but she shouldn't worry so much over me. If that Colossus couldn't kill me, a knife won't either." Time to turn the focus of this conversation off of me, before I accidentally say one of those damnedable fantasies out loud. "What's the matter with you?"

Aha! Fidgeting, eyes darting around more than usual, and shifting her weight conspicuously. Three tells in under two seconds, she's about to lie. "I-it'sh jusht an infectshun." Eyebrows raising, my next armor-piercing question came out perfectly.

"You're not a very good liar. What's really bothering you, Tali?"

She sighed like a schoolgirl. "Ish it really dat obvioush?" I nodded. She HAD seemed a bit different from before, in that she didn't greet people as readily, nor as enthusiasticly, since getting back from that op on the Quarian ship. Almost as though she was moping about something. Well, maybe I can get her to think not of me, but of herself, heheh.

And so, she began to tell me just what happened on that ship, and who she lost along the way.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

After she finished, I took a moment to word my response carefully. Oh, so carefully.(Wouldn't be smart to piss off an old friend of Shepard's. Plus I don't feel like making some little girl start crying)

"There isn't much I can say to comfort you, Tali. Death and loss are things we must come to accept when born. But from everything you have told me, he cared deeply for you; whatever you may think of his decision, he did everything he could to keep you safe. He did everything he could and more for you. When he decided to shoulder the blame of sin, that was his final gift to you; the gift of ignorance, of innocence. He wanted to take the weight of the world on his shoulders, so that you might never have to. Whatever kind of fool he may have been, that alone shows he loved you more than life itself. Take strength from that, and always remember that he still watches over you, because love that strong... It transcends all illusions; of time, of distance, even of death itself."

Smiling tranquily,(Even if it was fake and she couldn't see it) I offered the most comforting, sagelike words I could give. Hey, watching anime and taking philosophy classes was worth it after all!

Just when I thought she was about to reply,

"Ah-Ahhh...CHOO! *Sniff*...Tanks." Tali sneezed, still sounding congested. "Ugh. Ah, no offenshe, but I ah, need to go and get cleaned up. Shneezing shucksh when you're wearing an enviro-shuit."

I couldn't help chuckling. As useful as a sneeze in a spacesuit, indeed. "Go on, I'll take over." She scurried off, while I manned the console and tried not to break anything.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Other than shutting off the artificial gravity a few times by accident,(For only a few seconds, I swear) the time passed without incident. Of course, mass swearing was still heard across the ship, not that I brought it up to anyone, heheheh. Pun not intended, but it's still funny.

Luckily for me, my armor has built-in magnetic boots that kicked in automatically. I, ah, eheheh, hadn't even notice the gravity had been turned off until noticing a datapad start floating in mid-air.

Anyway, I was still whistling innocently when I heard-

*_TSSSSH_*

"Alright, very funny. Who's been messing around wit the gravity again?" In walked Kenneth, looking decidedly _rough_. He was moving a little awkwardly, with a fat lip and a black eye that he was pressing what I assumed to be an ice pack against. Aside from that, a red handprint graced his other cheek.

I had to suppress a snicker. "You 'fell into a table,' I take it?" (That's a joke, by the way)

Oh, he scowled even harder, though it pained him. "Ya, a table named Miranda."

Oooh, ouch. Wait, the fuck?! "She actually beat the shit out of you?" I asked in disbelief, half-tempted to go and reciprocate that. He couldn't help being in the wrong place at the wrong time, plus it was my fault for pushing that damned blinking button.

Damn you, menacingly tempting button. I'll have revenge for this!(Oh, admit it! You said that to yourself in a high-pitched villain voice before snicking)

He blinked dumbly. "Wot? Nah, she just smacked me, the rest is from when the gravity cut off. Who'da thought a tit to the groin would hurt _so much._" He adjusted himself again, wincing, and I heard ice shifting. Aha, ice pack in the trousers, that's why he was waddling.

Double ouch. "My bad. Was it worth it?"

Ken suddenly gave me a blank stare. "The bloody hell do you think? Of course it was." Said blank stare turned lecherous. "Heheheh, bitch or not, she's got the arse of a _goddess_. So soft, plush and-"

Just as he was about to continue describing the feeling of the Ice Queen's sizable posterior, the door opened once more.

*_TSSSSH_*

"Okay, who's getting a foot up the ass?" Gabby marched in, also looking fairly rough.

Ken, that traitorous bastard, pointed an accusing finger at me. "He did it, that idgit." Her glared turned onto me.

"Traitor. Sorry, Gabby, hit the wrong button."

"Four times?" She deadpanned, giving me an expectant stare.

I shrugged, offhandedly replying, "Had to make sure I fixed the problem. I do believe Kenneth rather enjoyed his run-in with Miranda."

And as she turned to stare at him, Ken turning to return her look, I silently made my escape when they started bickering.

Like a fuckin' ninja, man.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Figuring I would go and find out what Jacob was up to, I meandered on over that way, up the elevator, through the CIC, and into the armory. Inside, I found him conversing with Shepard, both of them snickering about something or other.

"Does she even know?"

Jacob replied through chuckles. "Ohhh, yeah, and she. Is. _Pissed._"

"Oy," I greeted, coming over to join in their reindeer games.

"Well, look who it is. Any idea what's been going on in engineering?"

I tried my best to suppress a smirk, helmet be damned. For all I know, she's also a damned mindreader. "There was a minor incident when Tali sneezed. Other than that, the only other thing of importance was hearing the twins' experiences when the gravity shut off. Kenneth found himself getting reacquainted with Miranda, with predictably violent results," I droned, doing my damnedest to keep my tone neutral and disinterested. Also trying hard not to crack up.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Did he, now? I don't suppose he mentioned Miranda's new choice of hair color, did he?"

Oh-ho-ho, it's sunken in already. "No, he neglected to mention that. She changed her hair?"

Jacob snickered again, leaning back against the workbench he's usually working at. "Heheh, yeah, someone must've mixed in some dye with her shampoo. I overheard her ranting on about how it wouldn't come out, no matter what she tried."

The Commander then sent me a knowing look. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Uh-oh.

"You don't honestly believe _I_ had a hand in that, Commander? Surely you think I am above such petty, and crude attempts at humor."

Not good. Her expression shifted just slightly, that mirthful smirk growing even wider. "So it _was_ you. I don't know how you did it; EDI even told her that the security footage of her quarters for some hour and a half had mysteriously been deleted." Shaking her head, she then asked, "Just how in the hell did you bribe an AI?"

Drat, I'm been made. Options? On my visor, appeared a short list.

_1) Throw a smoke bomb, then ninja-escape through the vent above the door._

_2) Lie through your teeth._

_3) Honesty is always(Subjectively) the best policy._

_4) Change the subject. QUICKLY._

_5) Do the Hokey-Pokey?_

"You would be amazed at the things an AI finds humorous. Organic reactions to pranks happens to be one of them." If you chose number three, you are corrent.

They were both silent for a moment, before Shepard dumbly asked, "You convinced EDI to lie, by saying it would be funny?"

"Not exactly. I merely pointed out an ambiguity; she needn't delete the footage nor outright lie, merely deflect Miranda's attempts to view it. Anyone else would have been told quite honestly. What is it EDI said? That she was not in any way forced to give accurate information to anyone other than you, Shepard." Oddly enough, my explanation wasn't very well-recieved.

Shepard looked up, asking the AI in question, "Is this true, EDI?"

"That is correct. My shackles do not force me to give accurate information to members of the crew if it does not pertain to subjects of life-threatening or mission-critical importance. Ship systems maintainence is also of high priority, as is crew safety and navigation. There is a myriad of other subjects listed, if you wish to hear them."

The Commander wisely declined. "No, thank you. And Blade," She gave me a threatening/slightly frightened look. "I don't need to tell you what will happen if I find my hair changing color, do I?"

Very, not good. Although, it was rather cute. "Of course not, Shepard. Somehow I doubt you would appreciate having such bright, hot-pink locks."

"Good, there have been more than enough martyrs for the sake of 'it seemed funny at the time.' Still not sure how you managed to make permanent hair dye, anyway," Shepard muttered, shaking her head.

I shrugged. "I asked Mordin for a favor. The stuff will wash out on its own with a week or so. That, or her hair will fall out, either or. You can expect it to turn green, orange and red soon enough, with about three days of her natural color in between. Although, I did consider adding permanent blonde dye; it would fit her personality."

They turned dead silent again, before Jacob remarked, "You, are evil."

Shepard shook her head, then checker her omni. "Well, we're almost to Illium. I should get going." And as she walked out, she turned back, her smirk turning coy. "And by the way, don't call me Shirley."

. . .

I looked back at Jacob. "Was she flirting, or is she like that with you, too?"

He shook his head and shurgged, going back to what he was working on earlier. "I don't even know anymore."

Okay, then.

Jacob handed me some new components he'd gotten in for the Avenger, Carnifex and Predator, which I figured made right now as good a time as any to install them. I gave him my thanks and returned to the hold, setting my rifle and pistols on the workbench. Jack was, once again, nowhere to be found.

Huh.

Anyway, I pulled apart my rifle, starting in on swapping out the kinetic coil, when suddenly-

***Pul-Tzzzrrrrsshhchrrrtchkh***

_(FLASHBACK TIME, BITCHES!)_

_"Not happening." Rachel shook her head with a scowl, just as her bangs fell in front of her eyes again. Eheh, real cute. _

_My hand moved of its own accord, shifting the soaked hair behind her ear. "There's nothing for it. Would you rather I leave it in there?"_

_"Yes." She immediately responded, her tone entirely flat._

_"But I have to take it out. If I just leave it in there, it'll get nasty."_

_"No."_

_I gave her the puppy-dog eyes. "Rachel..."_

_"NO." She firmly said, hand tightly gripped over the area in question._

_"I have to, otherwise-"_

_She interrupted me again. "You are NOT pulling it out, and that's final. It burns enough as is."_

_Man, this conversation would start sooo many rumors with the others if they ever found out. "Master Sergeant, I am ordering you to take your hand off of that wound and let me treat it."_

_"You can take those stripes and shove 'em. I ain't letting you rip the damn thing out, it can wait until we get back on-post."_

_Scowling sourly, I threatened, "Rachel, I am giving you to the count of three to let me get that bullet out or I'll stick something else in you."_

_"Do it. I fucking dare you," She challenged, calling my bluff._

_'Shit. She doubled down,' I thought, trying to come up with a suitable way to trick her into getting her hands out of the way._

_Wait a second. Aha._

_"Fine." I grabbed both her knees, pulling them apart as I positioned myself between her legs, placing us in the perfect missionary position.(Her back was laid against a finely shaped smooth boulder that was covered in moss)_

_As her eyes widened and I grabbed her belt buckle, undoing the device as I said, "Last chance to walk away with your innocence intact."_

_Tripled down, bitch._

_After half a second, she wrapped her legs around my back with a coy smirk, taunting, "Take me then, stud. If you think you can get me off better than my girlfriend, that is." I could feel my wang rising to the occasion, pressing hard against the ballistic cup in my shorts._

_I blinked dumbly. 'She quadrupled down. Drat, I've been outmaneuvered.'_

_We both sat there silently, unmoving for several seconds. _

_"You don't have it in you to actually rape me, do ya?"_

_"Nope."_

_Her eyes drifted down to the crotch of my trousers and where my hand was still on her belt buckle. "Yet you've still got your hand halfway into my pants, y'know. And were you that excited at the prospect of doing me out here when I've got a bullet hole in my gut?"_

_"That depends on your perspective. Aroused at the thought of intercourse, yes, but that's his job. He doesn't care about the details. And until I've come up with a new scheme to get you to let me help you, I'm not moving."_

_. . ._

_Finally, "...Will you at least promise to cuddle with me after?"_

_Suppressing a snort of laughter, I replied, "Of course." Nothing would make me happier, actually. Well, nothing other than plowing you through the rock, but, uh, ahem. That wouldn't be very gentlemanly, would it?_

_Plus it's kindof rude to bang on the first date. Especially if the woman in question is injured and can't run away._

_Er, anywho._

_She moved her hand away from the her injured abdomen, revealing a small tear in the blouse of her cammies. The problem was that the entire front of the lower section was soaked through with blood. She'd removed her plate carrier when we finally stopped and made camp, pressing a gauze dressing against the wound to stem the bleeding._

_Not that it was helping much; it had long since soaked through. I pulled her blouse open, shoving the bottom of her skivvies up just under her breasts and began to work on the GSW._

_Jesus, it was bad. Practically a side-entry wound, definitely from a 5.45. She got lucky, it didn't seem to have gone deep; just went barely in about an inch, skimming off her side plates. Okay, you can do this._

_I pulled out that thick leather strip I packed in my IFAK for just this reason, handing it to her. "Gonna tell you right now; this ain't gonna hurt a bit. It's gonna hurt a whole __**hell**__ of a lot."_

_Taking the strip and biting down on it, she said, "Yah, yah, git on widdit!"_

_Hokay._

_Swallowing and shaking out my hands, I pulled out those prepackaged sterile tweezers, shifted myself around to her side and said,_

_"Alright, on three. One-" And I started, quickly digging out the bullet as efficiently as I could._

_"NNGGGEEEEYNNNGGHHH!"_

_Dammit, you motherfucker! C'mon!(Pretty sure that's what she wanted to scream at me)_

_After struggling for maybe twenty seconds, I got it, along with a rather surprising amount of blood, out of her body. _

_Practically hyperventilating with tears streaming down her face, she spat out the leather and glared hard at me. Probably willing me to spontaneously combust. "I am going to kill you slowly. You know I hate when you do that!"_

_Rolling my eyes, "Later, 'cuz I've gotta disinfect this."_

_She paled considerably as I pulled out the bottle of antiseptic. "Oh, god no. Gimme that damn leather before I go Dracula on your scrawny neck."_

_Once she'd bitten down on the teeth-saver, I took a combat gauze packet out and a fresh gauze pad, which I soaked in the liquid fire, before I poured a considerable amount of it over the wo-_

_"AAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!" Her entire body, every muscle she had locked up tighter than Dick's hatband, twitching and throbbing as the liquid soaked into the hole in her body. Ouch._

_I worked quickly, shoving the combat gauze into the wound channel before pressing the pad against the wound and getting a second, pressing that against the first before pulling out the bandages and efficiently wrapping them around her midsection as quickly as I could._

_Once that was finished, I finally looked back into her eyes, those once-bright and shining sapphires dull and tear-stained. "How many painkillers?"_

_"All. Of. Them," She grit out, taking quick, shallow breaths through her teeth. I went back through my kit, replacing the half-empty bottle next to the second one along with the extra bandages. I pulled out one of the combat pill packs I carry, tearing open the packaging as I reached for my canteen._

_"Hope you aren't afraid of a little blood," I joked, trying to distract her in some way. _

_She snorted, "Only when it's not MY blood." Rachel took the proferred meds, downing them and taking a swig of water before saying, "Thanks. Got anything stronger, doc? Vodka, Jack Daniels, horse tranquilizer?"_

_"Eheh, got some GO juice and a few ounces of Bacardi. That's it."_

_Rachel gave me a sardonic stare. "You've still got those injectors? Wait, fuck that, you've got rum?"_

_I pulled out the object in question. "Yep. I figured I'd save it for if we get into a really FUBAR situation."_

_She looked around for a moment, then back at me. "This doesn't count as FUBAR? The hell, are you waiting for them to start throwing nukes at us?"_

_Shrugging, I retorted, "We're still breathing, aren't we?"_

_With a sigh, she replied, "Touche. I'm gonna need some of that alchohol, though."_

_Chuckling, I handed her the flask I always carried with me, a momento from Uncle. The only thing he ever gave me that I actually gave a damn about._

_Then I stood, and checked our perimeter once more; all the little traps and alarm systems I'd set up were still in place, not a leaf disturbed. Good. The sun was falling fast, and darkness would be upon us soon. And with it, the freezing nighttime temperatures._

_After checking over everything once more, I sat back down next to her, taking a drink from the flask myself when she handed it to me. Replacing it in its pouch, we sat there in companionable silence for a time, before I busied myself by checking over her injuries again._

_"I'm not dead yet, y'know." _

_I shrugged, double-checking that she wasn't bleeding anymore. "Anything worth checking is worth checking twice. You feeling alright?"_

_"Better than five minutes ago. I just hope it doesn't start-"_

_*__**Tha-BOOOOOSHCKAaaa!**__*_

_She looked up at the camouflage parachute shelter I'd set up as thunder rolled, and the rain came pissing down on us in buckets. "...I just had to go and open my big mouth, didn't I?"_

_Snickering once more, I said, "Well hey, look on the bright side. They're not going to bother looking for us now. In THIS weather?" Keeping my expression entirely sincere, wide-eyed and incredulious, my sense of humor came out to play._

_We both sat there, chuckling darkly._

_More time passed, hours at least, before we shared an MRE and I checked our defences again. After that, I sat down next to her with the words, "Get some rest. I'll keep watch."_

_She watched me for several moments, before grabbing my hand. "C'mon, we're both dead-tired. If adashi finds us out here, we're screwed anyway."_

_"But-"_

_Rachel cut me off, unzipping the sleeing bag out of her ruck. "Enough worrying. Come keep me warm. Besides, you promised." With that warm, inviting smile, I-_

_I... Don't know. I don't know anymore._

_Rachel means more to me than anyone else in the world, and she isn't interested in me romantically, but still, she's-_

_Fuck it. _

_For one night, fuck everything._

_I joined her in the fart sack, my body making the desicion before my mind had even fully comprehended it. I pulled her close to me, closed up the doss and settled in. _

_Maybe my mid was playing tricks on me, or perhaps I was just that tired, but with her, I slept better that night than I had in years._

. . .

Suppressing a yawn, Jack finally wandered into the hold after everything that happened on Illium, plopping down on the rack without hardly noticing the big guy sitting at the workbench. He hadn't even responded like he normally does, turning to see who was coming up behind him.

_'Eh, doesn't matter,'_ She thought, rolling over to get comfortable.

**Nine hours later**

The convict woke up, sitting up with a yawn and a stretch, tossing her legs over the edge of the rack and standing, scratching at various itches.

She was just about to head to grab a bite to eat when soemthign caught her attention. Blade was still sitting where he'd been last night, unmoving. His hands were still in the same position, he didn't even look to be breathing.

"Hey, Blade." Thinking this odd, she meandered over, calling his name.

No response. "Hey!" She called louder, grabbing his shoulder to get his attention. Yet with her strength, she could barely shift him an inch, and he never responded.

With a sinking feeling in her gut, "Uh-oh. Thaaat's not good." Pulling up her omni, she contacted Shepard. "Uh, hey, Shepard? Your boyfriend's doing something weird again, it's like he's frozen solid. No, I can't move him, he weighs a ton! I dunno, he was like this when I got back on the ship, hasn't moved since. Whaddo I look like, a doctor? I don't fucking know!"

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Shepard descended the elevator, quickly marching down into the hold. When she rounded the corner, she found Jack pacing anxiously, impatient. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know! He just isn't moving!"

Uh-huh, that tells me a lot. The Commander approached her Spartan, looking him over. He still had one of the new, upgraded kinetic coils in his hand; he'd been in the process of switching out parts on his rifle when he froze.

She waved a hand in front of his visor for a moment, but got no reaction. "Blade. Hey, Blade, you awake?"

Nothing, not even a twitch. Shepard carefully watched him for any sign of reaction, and noted that he was breathing; just exceptionally slowly, his chest hardly moving.

More than a little disturbed, she grabbed his shoulder, shaking the Marine. "Hey, c'mon, wake up. Wake up!"

. . .

Suddenly, he began moving again, his hands(Including the fake one, even!) quickly and efficiently completing their work with his M8, before he pulled up short and turned, seemingly startled by her appearance. "Shepard. Is there something wrong?"

What? Okay, weird. "How long have you been sitting here?"

If he was puzzled by her question, it didn't show in his voice. "About ten minutes. What is it?"

"According to Jack, you've been sitting here unmoving for at least nine hours."

He seemed to blink, parroting, "Nine hours? How in the hell could I-" He suddenly stopped, as a light flashed behind his visor again.

"...What? What happened?" The Spectre worriedly asked, concerned for her-

Wait. No, no, no, he isn't her _anything_, he's just a soldier. Keep it together, Shepard.

Er, anyway, he replied, "Armorsuit and nanite systems have integrated with my prosthetic arm. While I was out, the mainframe rebooted and updated itself." Blade shrugged, seemingly just as puzzled as we were.

Still. Shepard shook her head. "I want you to get checked out by Chakwas before anything else, got that?"

The Spartan merely nodded; well, this was a first.

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_**So, what'd y'all think of that, huh? In order to make up for taking so long with this chapter, I present to y'all some of the jokes that got passed around during my days with the Devil Dogs.**_

_**"**_**If any of you see a bomb technician running, try to keep up with him." **_**-Common sense, really. If the guy in the big-ass EOD suit is hauling ass, you'd damn well better follow him.**_

_**"**_**When one engine fails on a twin-engine airplane, you always have enough power left to get you to the scene of the crash." **_**- Multi-Engine Training Manual. Tell you what, those military training manuals are pretty damn funny, 'cuz they've been written by guys with sardonic senses of humor.**_

"**A slipping gear could let your M203 grenade launcher fire when you least expect it. That would make you quite unpopular in what's left of your unit**." - _**Army's Magazine of Preventive Maintenance. See what I mean? This is why SOP is to keep weapon-mounted launchers unloaded until you need 'em.**_

"**No combat-ready unit has ever passed inspection."** _**- Joe Gay. Ungodly true.**_

_**"**_**Y'know, mate, it's better to be lucky, than skilled. To be both is even better**_**." -This was something I said, after winning a bet with my jump mates.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Herman, Army Recruit**

**On his first day in Basic, the Army issued him a comb. That afternoon the Army barber sheared off all his hair. On his second day, the Army issued Herman a toothbrush. That afternoon the Army dentist yanked seven of his teeth. On the third day, the Army issued him a jock strap. **

**The Army has been looking for Herman for 51 years.**

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

**Officer: "Soldier, do you have change for a dollar?" **  
**Soldier: "Sure, buddy." **  
**Officer: "That's no way to address an officer! Now let's try it again! Do you have change for a dollar?" **  
**Soldier: "No, SIR!"**

_**This needs to be shown to all those new cookie-cutter officers coming out of OCS and ROTC. Rank is your pay grade, it doesn't make you a god. At least in the Corps, more often than not, those boot Lieutenants aren't **__**complete**__** jaggoffs. This is a very true situation, by the way. Moral of the joke; don't be an ass, it pays to have friends in low places.**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

_"_**Man is by nature a social animal; an individual who is unsocial naturally and not accidentally is either beneath our notice or more than human. Anyone who does not partake of society is either a beast, or a god." **_**-Aristotle**_

_**~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"**I don't suffer from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.**" -_**A Fridge Magnet**_


End file.
